Gone to Hell
by hyndara71
Summary: Two months after he was kidnapped Nick will come back to life again in Eric's hands. Meanwhile back in Portland Sean Renard has a hard time at the precinct and Monroe and Rosalee are making plans for their wedding when Juliette tells them an important news. It is about time to find Nick and bring him back. And Nick himself is not in the position to do anything ... Nick!Torture, AU
1. Two months later

**Disclaimer:** _Grimm_ is the property of NBC, Universal, GKProductions, Hazy Mills Production and a lot of others. I don't own anything, beside the idea.

**A/N:** As I was asked to write my idea about what could happen in season 3 and after I've to wait a little until I hopeful will get my other fanfic back I thought I probably should give this one a try. I better warn now, you already know how far I tend to go with Torture!fics, and this is one, so you will get a lot of Nick!Whump and !Torture, as far as a lot of emo-whump for the others. This is an AU from the very beginning but I like the ideas of Monroe and Rosalee planing their wedding and also the hint about Wu. So I will give both of them a shot and try them out. For those who cannot stand Whump and Torture, you'll better stay away from this fic – not an empty threat.

* * *

Pain, pain, PAIN!

That was the first he felt after he came back to life. He screamed out his agony with his very first breath, trying to curl himself up into a ball. His sight was blinded by all the pain he suffered.

It took him a while before he'd realized that someone was holding him tight, pinning him down, and that he couldn't move his hands. He heard voices, but they seemed to be far away from him. Blood was rushing in his ears, he also could hear his heart beating, his lungs pumping air.

Sometime later he threw up, and someone hauled him upright to drink something tasting really bitter. Not long after that he lost consciousness only to awaken what seemed a few minutes later.

His sight came back, the darkness bleaching away with the pain, and finally he remembered his own name: Nick Burkhardt!

Nick, this was his name. Nick! Not the name he'd read in that passport before.

He tried to remember but the memory was getting blurry. He remembered a fight, a Wesen, people getting after them. He remembered he was together with Monroe and Rosalee and ... Juliette!

Nick tried to get up but was held back again by strong hands.

_"Liegen bleiben!_" a voice barked.

Nick looked up into a face he'd never seen before in his life. And behind this strange face he saw an unfamiliar looking stone wall. Also the language. What the hell was going on here?

"Where am I?" he asked.

The guy who was holding him looked up and shrugged. _"Sieht nicht sehr nach einem Oesterreicher aus, wenn du mich fragst, Hans,"_ he said.

German, it was German he was speaking. Nick had heard Monroe talking in this language often enough to recognize it. But that still didn't explain where he was.

"The prince is on his way," another voice said, this time with an heavy German accent.

Okay, he was surrounded by two men talking German or with German accent, in a place he'd never seen before. He remembered a fight and false documents he found somewhere.

Wait a minute, did that second guy said prince? Prince as in Prince? As in Royal?

Crap!

His memory was still slow, and he was still confused about what was going on here.

_"Er sieht nicht mal aus wie ein Thomas,"_ the first guy explained, flicking his head at Nick. _"Ich meine, guck doch mal, Hans. Mein Neffe heisst Thomas und der sieht voellig anders aus."_

The second man came closer, studying Nick's face and shrugged again. _"Ist egal. Fuer uns ist er ein Thomas, das ist alles, was wir wissen muessen, Franz."_

Nick didn't get everything but he got an idea about what was going on. The wrong name in that faked passport he found where ever he found that thing was Thomas. He didn't remember the last name but he was pretty sure the first was Thomas.

"I'm Nick," he said. "You hear me?"

The second guy, Franz, raised one eyebrow. "Is he allowed to speak?" he asked.

What?

"Don't know. Maybe it's time for a first lesson," the other one, Hans, answered.

Ashen, Nick got a pretty bad idea and began to shake his head when Hans clenched his fist.

"What's going on here?" another voice demanded, right before Hans could strike Nick, who was still held down by Franz.

Both men jumped and turned around to a door, guilty. Nick noticed this door was open now, having thought it closed before. And he realized he was only handcuffed. Probably that was the reason why Franz held him down on the bed he was lying on.

It took Nick two attempts before he finally was able to sit upright. His gut seemed to jump inside him, curdling sickly, and the muscles in his belly hurt like hell.

Didn't Rosalee mentioned the only way to wake a zombie up would be a shot in his belly. Great!

Something came up in his memory. A voice:

_"Bon sour, mon ami"_

Only the memory of the sound of this voice made him shiver.

"You two can wait outside," the newcomer said. "It should be private what my dear Thomas and I have to talk about."

Nick looked up, trying to sort this new guy into his confused memory. But there was nothing. Or nearly nothing. He remembered the sound of this voice but nothing else.

Hans and Franz left the room without a word or another sign and left Nick and the new one behind.

"Close the door," this new guy ordered. And Hans, who was behind his partner Franz, closed the door when he left. An old wooden door with a small peekhole. No doorknob on the inside.

Nick felt his heartbeat pick up speed after he noticed this.

The room didn't look like a homely place. The walls were stony, no interior decorating besides this so called bed he was now sitting on. A pair of small windows, emitted limited light, were too high on the walls to gaye out of them. Well, not without a chair, Nick decided. And here was no chair.

"So, you're awaken now," the new guy said redundantly, folding his arms before his chest he looked down at him, regarding him like a peekish panther.

Black, curly hair, middle-aged, probably older than the captain. His trousers and the shirt were handmade, his fingernails manicured.

"Where am I?" Nick started to ask. "Who are you and who are those two clowns? And why I am handcuffed?" He raised his hands to show.

The guy with the curly hair looked at those handcuffs. "Well, they are doing their job, I would guess," he answered. "Where are you? Definitely not in Portland anymore, but I think you will be clever enough to find out yourself where you are. Who am I?" He pointed with one finger at himself and let grow a cold smile. "Oh yes, the first time we met you don't remember. I am Eric. Eric Renard. Your highness, to you."

Nick starred up in that unfamiliar face. "What?" he asked, frowning and still trying to put the loose ends of his memory together.

He remembered pain, a lot of pain. A voice ordering him to do something. Darkness, a lot of darkness. And then ... nothing!

Eric Renard's smile grew. "Be sure, the memory will come back sometime," he said.

Nick looked up again. He tried to prepare himself for what he was going to ask next. "Is this about the key? Then you don't have to wait for my answer. I don't have it and I never will give it to you!"

Eric again raised an eyebrow. "Never is such a strong word, don't you think?" he asked before he shook his head. "But no, this isn't about the key, at least for now. This is about an offer and a lesson to teach. You will serve me for a while, do whatever I order. After this while, I will let you return with one last order. When you've done that job I will let you loose, and _then_ I'll ask you for your tiny little key. Not that hard, huh?"

Nick looked into the face of the Royal but he didn't woge, he only smiled.

All this because Eric wanted to hire him for something? Nick didn't believe this for one second. There was something else going on.

A lesson? Someone was going to get a lesson?

"You have kidnapped me because you want to teach your brother a lesson?" Nick asked. "Really?"

Eric looked impressed. "I'm stunt. I knew you were special but this ability is probably one of the fastest reactions I've ever seen from a Grimm," He said.

"What am I supposed to do for you? Kill my own boss?" Nick continued witheringly.

"Wow, you are _really_ good!" Eric grinned. "No wonder Sean is this successful in his job."

Nick tried to stare the Royal down but he knew he was in the weaker position.

"Well, so far we are talking about some nice, good paid jobs for a Grimm, not for murder," Eric said. "It is pretty simple. You are doing a job and will get paid for it with your life and finally with your freedom. Nothing that big."

It _was_ big, at least for Nick.

"I'm not doing anything for you," he said, staring defiantly.

"Well, if you will decline ... there is no option, sorry," Eric told him.

Nick didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"I think it's pretty clear: you cannot decline, plain and simple," Eric replied. "You will do what I order or you will learn this the hard way. Your choice." He shrugged, seemingly indifferent.

"This is no choice!" Nick snapped.

Eric smiled again. "I'll give you time to cool down and think about it. I'm not as bad as you think I would be. But I suppose I should have told you that no one is searching for you, and the life in your beloved Portland is continuing like before. No one misses you, or misses you that much that he or she would turn every stone. It would be better if you would accept this and start up yourself," he explained.

Nick's face was pale after he heard that.

No way! He was sure Monroe would search the whole continent for him, and Rosalee would be on his side, probably with a bag full of First Aid Wesen Drugs. Renard would search for him, so would Hank and surely Wu. And ... and ...

Nick looked aside, not wanting Eric to see him worried.

Juliette!

"It's been two months, Grimm." The Royal told him. "Two months since you came here. And so far you've done your job very well."

Two months?

Nick looked up, eyes wide. "Impossible!" His voice sounded throaty, tight with dispair and incredulity.

Eric still was smiling. "Think about it. That's all I have to say so far."

With that, he turned around. Knocking at that wooden door, Eric sent one last look back to Nick who was still sitting there, confused and lost in his thoughts and slowly returning memory.

"I will hear from you later!" Eric said cheerfully before he left the cell.

Nick was staring into thin air.

Two months and no one was searching for him anymore?

* * *

Sean Renard sighed wearily before he knocked at the door.

Two months and nothing was changing. This was going to get on his nerves, too, he had to confess. Two months since the incident at the container yard. Two months since he lost every track to Nick Burkhardt.

Not that that would change anything. Maybe it was better that Nick was lost. Only hell would know how to deal with a zombified Grimm. Whatever happened at that container yard definitely changed everything.

Again Sean knocked at the closed door, harder than before.

The probably worst thing that has happened was that half the precinct have witnessed the other zombies, or better yet, zombies who turned out to be Wesen. Not everyone took that easily, and the worst of all the victims he was up to visit now. Well, usually to grab this little pain in his butt by his neck and drill him back to the precinct.

Sean could understand it wasn't that easy to get that there was another world hidden within the existing one. But this was getting ridicolous!

A third time he knocked, more determined now.

"Sergeant Wu, this is your captain!" he said. "Open the door! Now!"

Again he knocked, this time with a hearty fist.

All they had found from Nick two months ago were his belongings, nothing else. The Grimm himself was gone, only that Cracker Mortal still was around, commanding his victims like a general. And some of those vics were Wesen, fully woged and visible for the normal humans.

Sean himself was shocked back then, he really never thought something like this could happen. It had took himself a while before he'd figured out to what his brother was up to. Then he returned to the precinct, ready for a quick S&R but the only ones to rescue were Nick's Wesen-friends and the poor Juliette.

Juliette Silverton was another problem. Sean didn't had any feelings for her anymore, or better, he felt _with_ her. She felt guilty for what happened. It was, so she told him later, the first time she joined Nick's group when this disaster happened.

Sean still tried his best to find out where Eric had taken Nick. He used every of his limited sources but so far, nothing. No one had seen Nick and no one had heard about any of the three men his spy had sent him from the files. The only thing that happened during the last two months was a rumour about a couple of murders in the Royal families. Not that this was such big news. Only the fact that both of this dead Royals were beaten to death instead of shot, stabbed, poisoned or whatever else.

"Wu, open the damn door or I will break it down!" Sean ordered.

"There's no one in here," the weak voice of the Asian officer answered from the other side of the door.

What the hell?

"Sergeant, I hear you!" Sean answered. "Open this door or you will regret it!"

One of those zombified Wesen had woged in front of Wu in that night. To be correct, it woged twice: one time into his Wesen-form, one time back into human-form after the sergeant shot it. A similar scene put Hank on the edge last year. Now the same happening to Wu told Sean he should better watch out for the Wesen population in Portland. Something he thought would never happen happened during the last two years while Nick's heritage woke up.

"Uhm, that's not the sergeant," Wu told him from the other side of the door. "That's Ceasar, his cat."

Sean started. "Are you kidding me? Open the door! I'm not repeating this, sergeant!"

A moment later he could hear a key moving in a lock, then the short snap of a bar, another bar following, a third one - were they now living in New York?

Finally the door opened a little bit, only enough for Wu to peek outside.

"I'm sick, sir," he said.

Sean frowned with a annoyed face. "You can't be serious. You got the clearance from the therapist. You are back on full duty – now!" he barked in a sharp tone.

Wu shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't. Not after ... after what - you know. I'm sick, sir."

Sean sighed again.

Not only that Wu had to kill someone, this someone was a Wesen in full form. No wonder he thought he was going nuts. But unfortunately, he wasn't. It was real. Which meant he had to deal with it.

Sean really hoped this situation would finally change somewhere in the future. The most other cops of his precinct were back on duty. Some still had to deal with what they'd seen at the container yard but most were simply accepting the story he told them afterwards. That there were some gas in the air in that night that made people acting crazy and also caused some hallucinations. That was the best explanation he'd found. But Wu couldn't believe that, not after what he saw.

"You will put on your uniform now and come with me," Sean ordered, "or I will come in and help you. Do you understand?"

Wu looked up at him. "Is there any news about Nick, sir?" he asked finally, a hopeful glimpse of light in his eyes.

Sean looked aside. "So far, nothing," he answered. "But we will find him, I swear to you."

Heck, he'd sworn this to himself! He wouldn't give up searching for the Grimm. Not only because Nick was a Grimm but also because he felt guilty that all of this had happened on his watch. He was out of his mind that day and this probably cost Nick his life.

Wu looked worried. "Then I don't think I can return to the precinct, sir. Sorry, I'm sick." With that, he closed the door again. There were several clinking sounds as bolts and chains were locked once more

Sean took a deep breath. For a moment the Zauberbiest inside him wanted him to kick the door open and drag Wu out of his apartment by his ear. But the Royal side of him sympathized with what Wu was going through and held him back.

"I'm coming back tomorrow. You'd better be ready then, sergeant!" Sean said before he turned around, leaving the apartment building, feeling rotten for all what happened two months ago.


	2. Probably not the best News

It was one of those mornings he could forget the world outside, Monroe decided after he took his seat on the opposite side to Rosalee. All his sorrows and worries seemed to fade away when he looked in Rosalee's pretty eyes.

But still there was this little wound in his heart. A thorn that jabbed with every beat. The place where he felt his friendship to Nick, who simply disappeared that night at the container yard. It was hard to believe that a Grimm could vanish into thin air, and after all, what Monroe knew that was Nick had but turned into dust. They lost his track at a container where they found his gun, cellphone and badge. Nick himself was gone, no one knew where or why or who had taken him.

Monroe tried his best to leave this chapter of his life behind. He had searched for his missing friend during the first weeks, called also some of his relatives in Europe because he feared that Royal, Nick had mentioned that night, had probably kidnapped his friend. But he didn't find anything and when the time went by, Nick's belongings in his attic were packed together and moved into the spare room. Other important things were more important for him as his relationship with Rosalee again changed that night at the container yard.

A month after the incident, Monroe made his proposal, anxiously hoping for any serious answer. And Rosalee said yes to him, the weird Wider/Blutbad with this tendency to unusual friendships. She said yes and kissed him and hugged him and was happy. That made Monroe happy, but his heart was still bleeding. And so was Rosalee's.

You will really realize how much a person means to you after this person is gone. That was and old wisdom he'd learned from his grandfather. And in this special case it was the truth. A truth Monroe wanted badly to turn.

"Coffee smells good," Rosalee told him with one of her bright smiles that always made him feel like a teenaged Blutbad before his first date.

Rosalee was hurt, too. True, she never said a word about Nick but it was clear. She missed the Grimm, his so non-typical acting and the fact that someone simply could have stolen him right in front of them made her sad.

Monroe wasn't sure at all but he thought Rosalee also had made some calls back then when Nick's case was still warm and it was possible to find and rescue him.

"I'm glad you like it. It's a roast the most people don't know," Monroe said with a smile.

Rosalee smiled back. "Sounds promising."

He just was about to start to explain to her this new roast and how it differs from the others when there was a knock at his front door.

"Ahm?" Monroe wasn't sure if he should go or simply ignore it. He wasn't awaiting anyone or anything, no delivery, no mail. "Probably a salesman," he decided, "or are you awaiting for someone or something?"

Rosalee shook her head and took one of the bagels out of the basket. "These are smelling good," she said.

Again there was a knock at the front door.

Monroe turned around, slightly disgruntled. The curtains of his front window where still closed so he couldn't see anything.

What if it was important?

He still hesitated, turning to Rosalee. The Fuchsbau looked at him, a line on her forehead. Obviously she thought the same.

A third knock, and this time there also was a familiar voice, saying, "Monroe? Rosalee? Would you please open the door?"

Juliette! And, according to the sound of her voice, she wasn't in the best mood.

Monroe stood up. "Sorry," he said.

Rosalee shook her head and stood up herself. "Could be really important. Maybe she found something," she answered.

Monroe sighed.

This would be the best news ever he decided while he went to his door to open it.

Juliette wasn't looking too happy, just the opposite. Tears had drawn deep lines into her cheeks. She didn't wear makeup and her hair wasn't made up. And she was holding something in her hand.

"Morning, Juliette," Monroe said. "Though ... I don't think it's been a too of good one for you, right? Come in, please." With that, he stepped aside to let her in.

Juliette entered his house. The moment she passed the door she began to weep and nearly broke down entirely.

"No, no, no!" Monroe said, grabbing her and lead her to the couch.

"Juliette, what happened?" Rosalee asked, shock plain on her face.

Juliette sank down on the couch, shivering and sobbing in uncontrollable despair. She held something up to them while she buried her face in the other hand.

"What is that?" Monroe asked, frowning.

Rosalee's face was pale. She took what looked at a white pen and stared at its long side. "Oh my God!" She sank down on the couch next to Juliette and embraced her. "Is it Nick's?"

Juliette nodded and cried even harder.

Monroe stared at the pen, but blanched when he finally realized that it was not, in fact, a pen.

"You're pregnant?"

Rosalee looked up at him with the look she sometimes gave him. He knew from the first time on that it was a warning to shut up. And mostly he took this advice very seriously. So he sank down on the chair opposite to the couch and sealed his lips, docile.

"When did this happen?" Rosalee asked a little while later when Juliette slowly calmed down.

"The night before he disappeared," Juliette answered throaty. "We – we never really planned something like this. True, we were kidding about it, but ... I don't know what to do now!"

Monroe exchanged a look with Rosalee.

The night before the incident at the container yard was also their first night back together. Monroe knew Nick and Juliette also celebrated, so to speak. But he never thought it would lead to something this serious.

"Didn't you use contraceptives?" he asked, only to get another of Rosalee's warning looks.

Juliette looked up to him, sniffed and nodded. "I do and so did Nick. Something must have been going wrong that night."

Another look from Rosalee. This time not her warning look but her, "There is something weird" look what Monroe only could return to her.

How was this possible? How could this happen?

"Do you want some tea to calm down a bit?" Rosalee asked. "Or a coffee? But only a little. You know, it's not good for the baby – if you want the baby."

Juliette nodded. "Tea sounds great," she whispered and took the test back from Rosalee. Juliette's fingers went white so hard she held that little plastic stick.

The third look from Rosalee was the, "I need you" one Monroe usually loved. But this time he wasn't sure what to think about this whole situation.

Juliette pregnant and Nick still missing. What should they do now? What did Juliette want to do? Did she want the child? And how she could manage having a life as a vet _and_ be the mother of a newborn? As far as he knew, Juliette was specialed in bigger animals, not house pets. The kick of a horse, cow or an attack from a pig could hurt more than her in her condition now.

He stood up again and followed Rosalee into the kitchen, still trying to fully comprehend this news.

"How could that happen?" he asked when they were both together, away from Juliette.

Rosalee stood there with her back to him, hands on her hips she stood very straight, her head lifted up. Finally, she shook her head. "I don't know," she said and turned around. "But we have to do something now. We are friends of both of them, especially of Nick. He would want that we help Juliette."

Monroe looked at her. "But Juliette said they used -"

"I heard that," Rosalee snapped. "Seriously, I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with Nick being a Grimm. We already knew he was stronger than the usual Grimm."

Monroe started. "You don't think he's dead, do you?" he asked. "Nick is alive! I will never believe anything else as long as we haven't found his body!"

"It's been two months now, Monroe! Nick is gone!" Rosalee said sharply. "If this Cracher Mortal poisoned him -"

"I'm with Monroe, Nick is alive," Juliette's voice peeped from the doorway.

Monroe turned around to find her standing there, eyes still wet and red from all the tears. But also with a very serious face now.

"I'm sorry," Rosalee said behind his back. Monroe knew her long enough to hear that doubting tone in her voice. She wanted to say sorry but she still couldn't believe it.

Somehow, she was right, Monroe had to confess. Those zombies weren't dead and with that they were in need of water and food. True, their systems were nearly shut down so they were only in need of tiny pieces. They also could barely chew or gulp. But they needed food and water nontheless. After two months, probably without any supply, a zombiefied Nick would probably starve to death. And without any news, no one knew where he was. It was possible that he was dead, just like Hank said only some weeks ago.

Hank was the first to give up the hope of finding Nick, Monroe remembered. He was just starting over with a new relationship. Worries about his lost partner was surely the last thing Hank Griffin needed right now. But it also was kind of sad to see him leaving.

And now Rosalee. Monroe didn't notice any change in her thoughts before she told him now. On the other hand, they both prefered to avoid talking about this loss.

Juliette looked more calm now, but also very serious. "This is Nick's child. I will bring it to birth and I won't give up the hope of seeing him again, even for just one time, so he could have something to look forward to. No matter how long this will take! Nick IS alive!"

"He is. I know he is. And if you really want this child, I'm sure we will be able to help you when you need us," Monroe said, shrugging then he corrected: "Well, I will be always there for you."

Damn, he was just about to marry Rosalee. The probably weirdest thing would be to parent the child of a Grimm. But Nick was more than only a friend to him, Monroe had realized a while ago now. Nick was almostf family, the reason why he made it out of his house again, how he met and fell in love with Rosalee, had fun, had a sort of family. Nick was this family, with all his normal and unusual problems, his selfishness sometimes, his weird appearances, his emotions and, of course, the trailer with all the strange, ancient stuff in there. For the past year or so, Monroe had started to think Nick as a brother, a little brother who always got himself into trouble and had to come to him to fish him out. That was the reason why he take care of him after he broke up with Juliette, why he let himself getting involved so much into his relationship problems.

And Monroe knew Nick thought about him in a similar way. He would probably never use the word "brother," but their relationship was of this kind.

"I'm in if you want me," Rosalee said. "No matter what I believe or not, you are my friend, Juliette. And so was Nick. It would be an honor to help you."

Juliette glanced between them, still very serious, then she nodded. "I will never hear about that again," she said. "Whatever you may think, I will keep my hopes as long as we haven't found a body."

"Very well," Monroe answered.

Something was weird about Juliette. But he couldn't quite put his finger on it ...


	3. The Offer

First of all I want to say a very big and special Thanks for my incredible beta **Merlyn Pyndragon**. I don't know if I could do this without your help and all the work I put you in. I know, I'm big in forgetting to thank you, now I do - and will remind myself to say it more often ;).

* * *

Nick had watched how the daylight was changing during the last hours. First it got brighter, then it changed its color from a nearly golden-white to a deep orange, and only then finally faded away into dusk's embrace. While it got darker in his cell, lights sparkled to life from the ceiling. Mini-LEDs, which didn't turn really bright but gave enough light that he probably would have trouble trying to sleep.

Nick was hungry and thirsty. No one had entered his cell until Eric left it. Fortunately for Nick - even Hans and Franz had left him alone. Unfortunately, however, while the day dragged by, he recognized how much he needed food, and especially water.

Damn, what he would have given now for one of Monroe's imported beers! Or even a bottle of water. Something to kill this feeling that his tongue was getting bigger inside his mouth.

Nick leaned his head against the wall behind his back. Still he was sitting on that bed, or better, he was again sitting on this bed after he'd tried to figure out where he was and if there was a way out of this cell.

A look through that peekhole told him that there was a hallway on the other side of the door. Like his cell, that hallway seemed without any decoration, only some old brackets. Now there was light shining through the peekhole, telling him that outside the cell there were lights illuminating the hallway.

He was supposed to kill his own boss, and it sounded like Eric wanted more from him.

Nick shivered. Not that long ago he was more than ready to kill Renard, but not now! Not anymore! Since he drank that purification potion he had calmed down, the reunion with Juliette was the last step to grant him peace.

He was no killer! He only killed when his own life was in danger so far, and he had no intention of changing this.

But what would happen if he was to decline? What Eric would do to him then? Nick doubted that he would give a simple, "okay, thanks anyway!" and let him go. Eric himself told him there would be another way. And didn't the captain already tell him about when he asked him about the keys?

Again Nick shivered, a shuddering spasm that wracked his entire, weakened frame.

He feared what was possibly awaiting for him in the future. He didn't want this to happen, never! He had tried his best to become that kind of Grimm Aunt Marie would be proud of, and he hoped she also would understand.

Would Eric try to torture him? Now? It was 2013, not the 15th century anymore! But nowadays, torture was still an option for some. Unfortunately for him now, a very efficient option.

What would happen if he was to decline? What would happen if not?

Maybe he was wrong and whatever Eric wanted from him was nothing that big or bad or illegal than he thought now. Eric had already told him, this wasn't about the key, not in the first degree.

What then?

Nick already began to miss the others. He missed Monroe and Rosalee, Wu and Hank. But he missed Juliette the most. This wasn't fair! They had just reunited! He couldn't imagine how Juliette would be now. It was the first time she was part of his group and then -

The door opened and Nick turned his head, not sure what he was to be expecting.

"Food!" that voice with the heavy accent (Hans? Franz?) told him. A metal tray with a dish and a plastic bottle of water was pushed into the cell.

Nick stood up shakily, not sure what to do now. Still he was handcuffed, true, bound in front of his body so he could use his hands, but there was no furniture. Was he supposed to eat his meal on the ground?

"Where's Eric?" This question slipped from his tongue way too easily and Nick cursed himself silently.

One of the two men - Nick wasn't sure but he thought it was Franz - peeked into his cell, frowning at him. "It's late. The prince is probably already asleep," he answered gutturally.

Nick felt guilty and bit his lips for a second before he said, "I want to talk to him!" Surprisingly, his voice sounded harder than he thought.

What was he supposed to do?

Franz leered at him suspiciously. "He will be come for you, tomorrow," he said.

Nick shook his head. "Now," he answered bluntly. "You should tell him, maybe I will change my mind, if he makes me wait."

Franz still sneered at him. "You would be surprised how much he would appreciate it if you would change your mind, Thomas," he grinned.

His heart missed a beat but Nick did his best to act very determined. "Call him! Now!"

"What's wrong?" he heard the voice from Hans outside his cell.

Great! It looked like he would have to deal with both of these clowns again.

"Thomas wants me to call the prince," Franz explained.

"Are you serious?" Now it was also Hans who peeked into his cell. "Are you playing games, Shorty? You have no idea what will happen if you do, believe me."

Again Nick bit his lips, but then he shook his head.

If this job Eric mentioned wasn't about killing people, he probably would give it a try. Only to find a way to flee back to Portland, to return into Juliette's arms and Monroe's warm kindness. Probably they would find a way to help him get rid of Eric, and the captain surely would be interested in what he'd found out so far.

"I am serious!" he said. "Call the prince! Go!"

Hans and Franz exchanged a look, then Franz shrugged. "It's his funeral, not mine." Hans nodded.

A moment later, the door was closed and locked again.

Nick needed a few minutes to calm down. He had to take some deep breaths before he was sure to be relaxed enough. Then he took the water bottle from the tray, ignoring the dish with something that was supposed to be his food. Water was more important for him now, he decided, and opened the bottle.

* * *

Adalind stood once more in front of the fullbody mirror in her bathroom, studying her body. Her pregnancy had slowly become visible. Since then. she had been lucky, but it was getting harder from day to day now. It was such a relief that Eric only was barely around during the last two months. On the other hand, the last two months probably were the last ones she could have met Eric before this situation got too risky for her.

Anyway, she hadn't managed to get back what she wanted. Stefania had told her this wasn't possible as long as she was pregnant. And the baby still wasn't able to survive on its own. At least she would have have to wait two or three more months before she could give birth to this baby.

Adalind touched her belly with one hand, slowly massaging that little curve there. Somewhere inside her body, there was this tiny little life, and for a second Adalind thought she could feel a response to her touch. Appalled, she lifted her hand again.

What she was going to do here? She never wanted a connection to this thing inside her body. She wanted her Hexenbiest back, nothing more. This baby was already sold now, and the day she would get the part back she lost before, she would be the luckiest, happiest Wesen on Earth!

Really? A small voice inside her head seemed to ask.

Adalind shook her head and stepped back from the mirror.

No! There was no connection to the baby. She did her very best to avoid this. She didn't want it, it was only a good, something she had already sold away to get her Hexenbiest back.

Really?

Adalind lifted her eyes to the mirror again, not sure what she was supposed to see there, when suddenly a hard knock came from the door of her suite. She started and turned around. Closing the bathrobe, she tried her best to forget what she witnessed a moment before and went to the door.

Maybe the server with the hot chocolate I'd ordered, she thought. But something, a sixth sense, whispered otherwise.

"Who's there?" she wanted to know after she realized that the door was still closed.

"It's me, my sweet. I wanted to spend a short visit."

Adalind stopped in the middle of her movement.

Eric!

Again her hand touched that telltale curve of her belly, making sure her bathrobe hid it as much as she could.

Damn! Why she asked? She could have pretended not to be here, or else asleep. Eric would have left if she hadn't responded, she was sure. If he noticed her condition, nothing would save her from being murdered. Not as long as they weren't married.

Adalind took a deep breath and tried to clear her mind. Then she put on her best smile and opened the door.

"Eric! It is so good to see you! How've you been?" she asked.

Eric looked at her, a bouquet and a bottle of red wine in his hands.

"You are looking beautiful!" he said, stepping into the suite. "And I missed you, my dear. I missed you very hard, I have to confess."

Adalind had the feeling her smile was noticeable plastered on her face when she took the flowers. "You must really missed me if you are coming here this late," she said, searching for an excuse to make him leave again.

Eric ditched his coat on a chair and sat himself down on the couch, one foot on the table. "Well, I'm back now and I'm all yours, my sweet witch," he said to her, grinning, and then lifted an eyebrow. "And I see you are already ready to use your powers on me again, huh?"

Adalind did her best to keep her smile. "Whatever you desire, your highness," she answered with a curtsey.

Eric hummed and looked very pleased. "I like that, you know?" he asked.

Surely she knew. That was why she was doing all this. She needed his protection until she got her Hexenbiest back, and maybe afterwards. Adalind wasn't sure if she would be able to hide the Biest long enough to become Eric's wife. IF she could, she would definitely make history, the first Hexenbiest ever as a princess. With that step she would be untouchable by Sean and Nick, and the most other Wesen. The only ones she would have to fear then would be other Royals. And Eric was mighty, and one day he would follow his father on his throne and be the head of the entire family. If she could trick him that long, she would rule this world one day, of that she was sure.

Was that really what she wanted? That tiny voice asked her.

Adalind startled and turned around. "I'll give the flowers water, my dear," she said.

What the hell was going on with her? It's been five months now and nothing had come between her and her plan. And now this!

"I would say let them die, but I know you women well enough to know you would probably never forgive me," Eric laughed.

If only!

Adalind brought the bouquet into the bathroom, not sure what to do with it.

Damn! What she was supposed to do now? Eric hadn't seen her now for two months. If she was able to see the curve, he would be too, maybe more as he had her in his mind in her state two months ago.

This was getting way too dangerous, Adalind realized. She thought she could hide herself long enough to give birth and restore her Hexenbiest but now she knew that there was no option anymore. Maybe she would be able to play another trick this night but it was only a matter of time until Eric finally realizes that she wasn't so lean anymore. And not from comfortable living.

Adalind put the bouquet into the sink and turned around, still avoiding to look into any mirror. Again she startled when she saw Eric standing in the door, watching her.

"Everytime I see you, this glow is all about you, you know?" he said. " I like that somehow."

Adalind put the smile back on her face. "Who doesn't?" she asked, stepping closer. She opened her arms to embrace him. "I missed you."

Eric's arms surrounded her and he leaned forwards to kiss her.

"You taste different," he decided afterwards.

"Maybe the dinner?" Adalind smiled in his face.

Eric again lifted an eyebrow. There was a little light in his eyes which she always made shiver.

"Yeah, maybe," he said before he kissed her again. "Or not."

Adalind's heart missed another beat.

Not now! Not after she came this far!

Eric looked at her very serious. "Is there something you have to tell me?" he asked.

Adalind did her best to keep the smile but it felt like a mask on her face now.

The moment she opened her mouth to answer, Eric's cellphone rang. With another loathy humming, he loosened from her, pulling the phone out of his pocket.

"Give me a second," he said to her after he looked at the display. "Could be important."

Adalind took a deep breath while Eric moved around, putting distance between himself and her.

"What?" he asked sharply, and then listened avidly. He took a look over his shoulder at her and smiled one of his cold, predatory smiles. "Is he? Really? That was quick!"

Adalind took a short look down at her bathrobe making again sure everything conspiuous was hidden.

"I'm on my way," Eric decided and ended the call. Turning back to her he shrugged. "I'm sorry, I fear this is very important."

Adalind nodded. "We will continue later," she said. "Can't await."

Eric's smile grew. "Me neither, my dear, me neither." With that, he left her.

Adalind swore. She had never been more relieved all over her life.

* * *

Nick was again sitting on the bed when finally the door to his cell opened once more. He looked up anxiously and took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself, when he noticed Eric entering his cell.

"So, I've heard you've changed your mind. Good for you," Eric said instead a greeting.

Nick stood up, didn't remove an eye on the Royal, and shook his head. "I didn't. I've questions to ask," he told his visitor.

Eric frowned, the excitement he showed before fast dying in his features. "Really? That's disappointing," he decided, and came over to the bed.

Nick stepped aside, still watching the Royal while Eric sat down where he had sat a moment before.

"What questions?"

Nick studied the face of the nearly complete stranger. Darn! Just like Renard, he was only barely able to "read" Eric. Whatever a Royal was, he was definitely good in hiding himself.

"What job do you want me to do?" Nick finally asked.

Eric lifted an eyebrow. "That's the reason why I had to return from a romantic night with my fiance?" he asked, sounding exaggerantingly indredulous. "You could have waited until tomorrow. I'd already planned to give you a little tour then."

"What job?" Nick repeated.

Eric layed one knee on the other and leaned back. "Well, I lost one of my bodyguards when I came to Portland to get you. I thought you could fill in for him," he told Nick, looking at him thoughtfully. "You are in a good condition, well, you need a little training and good food, I would guess, but afterwards you would be a good replacement in from my point of view. Good looking, in a neat suit, new haircut and clean shaving."

Bodyguard? Was he serious?

As a bodyguard, Nick would be able to move without being tied or locked away, at least during the day. It was possible to leave this place, to flee. He could plan what would be the best way to do this and finally return to Portland.

Eric's smile grew again, devilishly straight. "I know what you are thinking now. Forget it! Now one would help you and no one would be stupid enough to not report to me if you planned to leave without permission. This is my country, Grimm. Here, I am the master. And I can and will take care about keeping you, even as you do become my bodyguard, which you definitely will."

"So that's the part I cannot decline then?" Nick wanted to know.

Still there was a chance. True, this was most likely Eric's headquarters, but he also was a businessman and had to travel a lot. There would be a way to flee, Nick was sure. If this didn't get any worse than being a bodyguard, it would be bearable, at least for some time.

Still, that cold little smile was in one corner of his mouth. "The part you cannot decline will be that first you have to prove that you will stay. That could be a little difficult, I guess. On the other hand, you already began that job last year. Now it's time to come to an end with it."

Nick frowned. "What job I began last year? I became a Grimm. I cannot change that," he said.

Eric sat up. "It has something to do with you being a Grimm. To be true, you wouldn't have had a chance had your Grimm blood not awoken last year."

What was Eric talking about? Nick was confused. Again he searched his slowly working memory but there was nothing. He could remember everything until that night at the container yard. That night and the following time was blurry or completely in the dark. But what happened before that he could not remember now?

"What is it?" he asked after he again tried to prepare himself.

"You will kill my fiance with my permission, under my lead," Eric told him.

Nick stared at him. "What?"

"You've done the job already. Well, halfway through. You killed her Wesen part, now it's about time to bring the rest to the grave. She's a little -" He shrugged, searching for adequade words. "It was amusing for a while, but her time is already running short. It would be a graceful act to do, you know?"

Nick shook his head, lip curled angrily. "I'm not going to kill anyone!"

Eric stood up and slowly meandered over to him. Nick found himself caught in the corner of the room with no way out. Pretending to be tougher than he felt, he lifted his chin and looked straight into Eric's face. The Royal still smiled, and touched him now with one finger at his chest.

"You will do whatever I order, sweet Grimm, believe me. I know many ways to get what I want. You'd better give in now, freely and fullhearted. Every attempt to deceive me will be very, very painful for you. And so it will be if you are steadfast in declining my offer. I have no intention of breaking your will but I shall, if you will make. Do you understand?"

"I'm not killing innocent people!" Nick barked boldder than he actually felt.

Eric came closer, stepping into Nick's personal space. "But she isn't innocent, sweet Grimm. In fact, you know her pretty well."

Nick's heartbeat sped up again, so loud and fast he thought the prince would be able to hear it. "Who is it?" he wanted to know, still not taking an eye from the Royal.

Eric suddenly looked very satisfied, a self-content cat, still only an inch away from Nick's face. Coolly, he whispered, "Do you remember Adalind Schade?"

Nick's face grew deathly pale ...


	4. The Witness

"Police! Stop!" he ordered, his gun in his hands.

The man with the tophat turned around to face him and started laughing, a deep, imposing laugh that makes the cop shiver. "Oh, _mon ami_, you shouldn't talk that way to me," he said with a heavy accent.

"This is a crime-scene and you have to stay here!" he ordered.

Something was weird. Something was _very_ weird. And besides that, that this guy had a strange accent or wore a tophat.

Tophat – there was something about a tophat he remembered.

Four pale men came out of the container he'd witnessed this guy had left before. Four men carrying a huge metal coffin.

What the hell was going on here?

"Stop! Put that down!" he ordered.

"You would be better off if you had never seen this," the guy with the tophat said to him, giving another unnerving chortle.

The cop looked up at him and watched as his face began to ... He couldn't name what it did, but this guy didn't look human anymore.

He stumbled back, not really knowing what he was supposed to do now. The four men still were carrying the coffin and his instincts told him he should better run – now! ASAP!

"I said stop!" he yelled, but his voice wavered.

"You will understand, believe me. They are only following my orders, just like you will, in time," that thing, still with the tophat, said to him.

One of the four men stumbled and fell. The coffin, devoid of a carrier, fell, too. When it hit the ground the cover sprang open, and he could see -

"This wasn't for your eyes!"

He felt something hit his jacket and he swore he could never be gotten rid off it faster. There was something telling him that, whatever had hit the fabric, never should touch him.

He heard that thing with the tophat behind his back, saw who was lying in the coffin and ...

* * *

Wu jumped from his bed, breathing heavily, and not really knowing what to think. For a moment he just stood there in the early morning light shining through the closed window of his bedroom.

He'd seen Nick in that coffin. Why didn't he tell anyone about that? Why did he keep his mouth shut about that guy with the tophat? Afterwards, he'd remembered, Nick had mentioned that guy himself before.

What the hell happened that night at the container yard?

Wu sank down on the mattress again. Burying his face in his hands, he struggled to remember.

He'd seen Nick in that coffin, he was sure. All pale and with wide, blood-shot eyes, motionless and lifeless. And he was sure Nick was dead.

That guy with the tophat, that stuff on his jacket. All of this happened, Wu remembered. He had reported the man, only he didn't say anything about Nick. This scene back then was only one of a whole night of surreal happenings, of people turning into monsters. But that guy, he was sure, he was the most dangerous one of them all.

Why he didn't tell anyone?

Wu felt for Nick. When the young man was transferred to Portland and came to the precinct, Wu was his first partner. He remembered how Renard called him into his office back then, where Nick was waiting, looking so young and innocent. He liked Nick from the very first moment, and he liked him more after Nick told him about how he decided to became a policeman, about his parents' death, how he grew up on the backseat of his aunt's car. Wu was the first to know about Nick falling in love with Juliette. He was the first to learn that Nick would be promoted to a detective after only a few short years in the precinct. Somehow, Wu began to feel responsible for the younger man, just a little bit like a father. The father Nick so badly missed.

To see the younger man lying in that coffin, red-eyed and lifeless, was a shock Wu couldn't really handle. And then all this fighting against these weird monsters, finding Juliette and Nick's other friends there, that guy with the tophat. And there was another man, Wu remembered now. A man with curly hair. He'd only seen him for a second before that four men came out of the container with Nick's coffin. Another vague familiar face, like a former classmate or acquaintance.

What was this all about? When this stranger with the tophat had killed Nick, why would they take him away? Seriously, Portland was a mostly nicer city than some others in the US, but even so, a cop got killed from time to time. It wouldn't be the first time a policeman was brought to death by some criminals, and it also wouldn't be the first time Wu had seen a coworker dead.

True, to see Nick's body hit Wu harder than the most. But this wasn't about a body. This was different!

Wu remembered all the people they had arrested that night during what he only could call a battle were brought to different hospitals around Portland. And he remembered, the next day, when his endless journey to the therapist began, he met Nick's weird friend Monroe at the hospital where he wanted to take the statement from the attackers they brought there. A nurse told him Monroe had visited them all.

Wu looked up. As far as he knew, Juliette and another woman he barely remembered as the relative of a vic had been seen in other hospitals. And the attackers hadn't had a clue what was going on or why they attacked innocent people and cops.

Wu stared with empty eyes at a point on the next wall.

Something was weird about this night, and since then, it hasn't stopped. There was a tiny little voice telling him Nick was alive when he'd seen him. Maybe that was the reason why he didn't tell anyone about what he'd witnessed. This complete scenario was so weird and surreal, it couldn't be true.

Humans turning into monsters. Not that this would made any difference. It wasn't those hallucinations that were gradually pushing him towards the edge. It was simply the memory of seeing one of his best friends being carried away, appearing dead while he KNEW he was alive. It was that something warned him to run while he hadn't had a clue why.

No, Wu had seen a lot in his life, and he surely would see some more weird things before he passed away someday. But this was different. And that's why he kept silent so long.

But what about now? To whom he could go to without everyone thinking he was going nuts?

Juliette all sad and crying. Monroe pale and distressed, sniffing the air as if he could smell his friend. A woman with the bag, always rummaging through it and whispering something he couldn't understand. The captain, very nervous, searching for an explanation that would make sense but never did.

Wu still stared at the wall, impassive, as though waiting for an answer to ooze through a crack in the trim.

Nick's eyes. For a split second he'd seen them blinking.

And suddenly Wu stood up again.

Nick blinked, unable to speak. Maybe nearly unconscious. Wu had seen it. He'd known that Nick was alive, only looking dead.

Why had he told this to no one?

Whom?

Juliette, looking at him, so sad, so hopeless, but still caring for him, praying for her lovers salvation.

Nick's red eyes blinking for a split second before he ran.

He only knew one person he could talk to now, Wu decided. And he was sure, this person would hate him for all the time he kept his mouth shut.

Nick was alive when he saw him. He was alive! That was all what counted!

Wu turned around, searching for clothes.

He had something very important to do ...

* * *

Sean really had no idea what he was going to do here. He had just called Hank Griffin to convince him to come with him in the hope of getting Wu out of his apartment. Hank and Wu went sometimes out for a beer after duty. So, Sean thought, there was a real chance that his missed officer would probably leave his home for a friend, because he never would leave it for his boss.

"I've no idea why we are here," Hank said to him while they were climbing the stairs.

"I'm in charge for the mental state of my officers," Sean told his lieutenant. "Wu got the clearance from the therapist but he's still refusing to come back to the precinct. I cannot let this happen, Hank. Wu is a good officer and he's risking a lot here. If we cannot change his mind he will probably be kicked off the force. I cannot let that happen. Not after all!"

"I'm impressed, captain," Hank told him. "I know you are care for us but I never thought you would be so adamant in protecting us from being kicked."

That was what he was doing, Sean thought. And usually he wouldn't, well, he would not do this for everyone. Wu was someone every precinct needed, someone who could cheer the others up and also do his own work with experience, efficiency and with a regular streak of cleverness. Sean was sure that, without him, the precinct wouldn't feel or be the same.

He opened the door leading from the stairways to the floor and shrugged after Hank passed him. "Believe me, there's a lot you don't know about me."

"Yeah," Hank answered, "and I feel no need to."

This sounded bitter, even to Sean.

Damn, how could the loss of one single person affect an entire city? Hank seemed completely changed in the last two months. Maybe also because he just started a new relationship, but it felt weird. True, the two detectives never were such big friends but at least they cared for each other.

They walked down the floor until they came to the door to Wu's apartment.

Sean gave Hank a silent sign. He had the feeling that Wu probably would try to avoid opening the door again after he learned that he was there. Hank was another story, Sean hoped.

"Wu?" Hank said, knocking at the door. "Hey, buddy, everything okay in there? I just came over to see if you needed anything."

Silence.

Sean listened but there was nothing, no sign of life.

Hank knocked again. "Wu, come on! Open the door!" he ordered, still without any reaction. "This is Hank. I'm worried about you."

Sean exchanged a look with his detective and shrugged again. "I had to try is more often over the last few days," he said.

"Are you kidding me?" Hank turned around, lifting his arm and touching the the edge of the door frame.

Sean frowned when he noticed how easily his detective got a duplicate key from that door frame.

"Are you serious?" he asked, incredulous .

Hank turned around. "What?"

Sean pointed at the door frame. "That is what I call a lousy hideout," he told Hank. "I mean, how often did you do that schoolkids preparation course now?"

Hank thought for a moment. "I don't think it's such a bad idea. Where you have hidden yours?"

Definitely better hidden as this was, Sean decided.

Hank put the key into the lock and turned it.

"Wu?" he asked again after he opened the door a little. "Hey, buddy, it's Hank. I'm coming in now."

Sean nodded and closed the gap behind Hank, who led the way into the small apartment.

"Wu?"

"Sergeant?" Sean now asked. "Is everything alright in here?"

The room, definitely the living room, was empty. Only a big, red cat was sitting on the couch table, busy with cleaning her fur. When Sean stepped closer, she looked up, feline eyes leery. The fur at the back of her neck began to raise. The beginning of a yowl brewed in her throat.

Hank opened another door but came back only a few seconds later. "He's gone," he told Sean. "But his uniform is still here."

Sean got a bad feeling in his guts. "You don't think he would try something stupid, do you?" he asked.

Hank looked at him very seriously, shrugged then. "Don't think so. But with what he is going through, anything is possible."

Sean watched the lieutenant closely. "Did you think about something like that last year?" he finally asked. "After you ... you know ..."

Hank grinned. "Me? No!" he shook his head. "But I'm not Wu. I thought I would lose my mind. I've no idea what he may be thinking."

Hopeful not to end his life somewhere, down at the river, jumping from one of the towers in the city, or something foolish like that.

"I doubt Wu would do that. One thing I've learned about people trying suicide," Hank told him, nodding at the cat, "when you are going to end your life, you don't care about your pet anymore. Ceasar looks very full and satisfied to me."

Sean turned around again, watching that red cat. Ceasar stopped cleaning his fur and looked up himself, his green eyes glowing at Sean. At least the cat stood up and arched its back, snarling.

"Cats don't like me," Sean admitted with a grimace.

Nor do dogs, bird, reptiles – only fishes really seemed to like Hexenbiests, he had to confess.

"Then let us hope Wu is somewhere and still alive," Hank said.

Sean frowned. "What do you mean?"

Hank grinned again. "As far as I know, you are supposed to become Ceasar's guardian in the case that Wu dies. Could be quite a challenge for you two, huh?"

Hopefully Wu didn't leave to do something really, really stupid, Sean thought, looking at Hank with an irritated look in his eyes. That question was better off unanswered!


	5. The Plan

**AN:** Thanks for all the following and favourites, guys :). And a very, very, very special thanks to Merlyn Pyndragon again for her being such an awesome and patient beta :D

* * *

"Up with you! Hurry! The prince doesn't like to wait!"

Nick felt someone was shaking him hard and blinked. For a moment he didn't know where he was. Still caught in that dream about Juliette loving him in their bed in her house, he needed more time to realize he wasn't in Portland anymore, and that the one shaking him wasn't Juliette but one of the two clowns watching over him.

"I'm awake," he finally grunted sluggishly, lifting his still handcuffed hands to show he was awake.

"It's about time, Shorty. Move!" The one behind him grabbed the chain between the handcuffs and pulled it until the metal scratched Nick's wrists.

"I can stand mzself!" Nick yelled and moved around.

Damn, he felt like he'd slept for only a second. His body hurt, his wrists were chafed and swollen. And he felt really dirty and sweaty after all this time in the same clothes.

"Up with you! Move!"

Franz, Nick realized with a sigh, when he finally got up on his feet.

Hans was awaiting them at the opened door.

"What is going on here?" Nick wanted to know.

Hans grinned and came over. "The prince wants to see you, Shorty. And we are here to make sure you arrive save and secure."

Nick frowned. "What?" A second later, Franz threw something over his head from behind. Nick, now blinded and shocked for a second moved a step back but was grabbed pretty hard by his arm.

"This way, Shorty," Hans' voice told him.

His other arm was grabbed too and Nick felt himself being hauled out of the cell.

Why they were doing this? So he couldn't learn where they were bringing him? Then they didn't know anything about Grimm. The moment he lost his sight, his super-hearing began to work again. All his other senses worked perfectly, now after a day awake when sleep was no option. Usually with the help of a lot of coffee he did observations during his years as a cop.

Would he ever return to Portland? And if so, for how long? How was his life supposed to be like now?

Nick never really believed in all the hints that were given to him by Monroe and his ancestors. Why anyone would see him as a good? This was the 21st century, not dark ancient times centuries ago. But Nick now had to realize very quick that he was wrong. Maybe the times for the US have changed, but he surely wasn't in the US anymore. He still didn't know where he was but so far the only one without a German accent was Eric. The stony walls and the the small windows in his cell told him that he was probably in an old castle. True, some eccentric millionaires in the US also had bought castles to rebuild them in the New World, but Nick doubted this would be the truth in his case, which meant that he was in Europe! Hopefully, maybe somewhere in Great Britain where he wouldn't have a big problem with the language. But he was pretty sure, in recollecting the thick accents of his wardens, he was on the continent. And as far as he knew, not everybody on the European continent was able to speak or understand English. And that would mean a huge problem, especially because he didn't have a passport or anything else.

"Steps!"

This warning came a second too late and Nick was lucky to have been wearing his heavy boots. These steps felt like they were made from the same stone the walls in his cell were made from. He stumbled slightly, nearly falling onto his face, until Franz grabbed his back collar and steadied him. He resisted the urge to mutter a sarcastic remark and wriggled his lightly stubbed toe.

Somewhere, not that far away, he heard voices. From the sound of it, he again would guess those people were speaking German, but in a weird accent he'd never heard before. It sounded a bit like a singsong.

"Move, Thomas!" Hans ordered and pushed Nick a little.

Trapped between the two bigger men, who were probably Wesen, he felt helpless. One of the rare times since his heritage began, he had to confess.

Another walk, then again steps. And up here he heard nothing beside the sounds the three of them were making and the scream of a bird of prey somewhere outside. And the ringing of chains that was getting louder and louder.

Nick's heartbeat sped up.

Eric couldn't torture him! No way! He would never get away with that!

Well, he also thought harvesting organs for special medical use would be a fairytale, or glowing Wesen, or _any_ Wesen for that matter.

A door squealed open on ancient hinges, and they entered a room. He could hear the difference between the walk outside and the high walls in here.

"Good morning, my sweet Grimm. I hope you found a little rest last night," Eric's voice told him.

Someone pulled the sack from his head. Nick blinked again several times before he was able to see and understand where he was now.

A torture chamber, truly. Nick felt like he was on the set for a cheap B-horror-movie. Chains were hanging from the high ceiling, a rack stood near a narrow slit of a window. There were several pillars, probably necessary for the stability of this building. On three of them he could see old handcuffs hanging down. And at a fourth not only handcuffs but a man, all bloody with rumpled clothes.

Nick swallowed the stone in his throat and tried a deeper breath. "What is this about?" he wanted to know, hoping his voice would sound more couragous than he felt.

Eric smiled. "Sweet!" He nodded and Hans and Franz dragged Nick to the pillar to the broken man.

"I thought I should give you a little lesson in what is waiting for you if you refused my generous offer, sweet Grimm," Eric answered, meandering over to them.

His two guards opened the handcuffs and raised Nick's arms above his head to fix his wrists to the pillar.

"You really think I would give in to torture?" Nick asked, trying to sound contemptuous.

Eric pulled a face. "Who said I was going to torture you?" he returned the question. Shrugging, he turned around to that poor other man. "May I introduce Klaus to you, my dear?" he asked, pointing at the other man. "In his former life he was a teacher and will be more than happy to be – let us say, he will be the subject of today's lesson."

Nick took again a deep breath to try to prepare himself. "You should let him go," he finally said. "I will not give in because you are going to kill an innocent man."

Eric turned again, smiling. "You see, this is the problem! Klaus isn't innocent. He is part of the Laeufer, the Resistance, if you have ever heard of that," he explained.

"I know about the Laeufer," Nick answered blandly.

Eric lifted an eyebrow. "Really? Well, you are a clever Grimm. Maybe you will be intelligent enough to give in. It's not that much I want from you. Right, Klaus?"

The victim at the other pillar shifted feebly, barely able to lift his head.

Nick sympathized with the man. He wished his hands were free to teach Eric his own lesson.

The Royal gave his guard a sign and Franz left Nick's side. A moment later the Grimm could hear another door opening but he couldn't see anything that was going on behind his back.

"It's pretty simple, my dear Grimm. You will watch today what I will do to you if you are refuse. Maybe quite the same – well, in the end I may just have to kill you, you know? It would be a shame, as your kind is near the extinction and you, as a key-Grimm especially valuable. I'm sure my brother told you about that, right?" Eric explained.

"I know that your family killed one of my ancestors to get his key, yes," Nick answered.

Eric lifted his chin. "But nothing about your worthiness? I'm shocked!" he told him, stepping closer again. "Grimm are pretty rare lately. To own one is a huge privilege, you know?"

"I'm not a slave. No one owns me," Nick spat at him.

Eric leaned his shoulder next to his captive, studying his face. "Well, sorry to correct you, but I am owning you now, my dear. And I have the privilege to tame you. I've read a lot about that, you know? It will be an interesting experience to turn all that stuff I read about your kind on you. True, you are a bit different, but I think the most should work pretty well on you. Don't you think?"

"I am human, not an animal or house pet," Nick snapped.

Eric grinned. "We will see what you are after my work with you is done. So far you were one: very effective."

Nick wished he could recall what happened that night at the container yard and the time since then. But still everything was blurry and went black when he tried to focus while everything else was pretty clear.

Great!

Franz came back, carrying a tray.

"Ah, wonderful!" Eric moved around to follow Franz to the other victim. "Oh, Hans will make sure that you are looking at what we are doing here. And he's pretty good in doing that. So, it would be best if you didn't challenge him, my sweet Grimm," the Royal told him, once more turning around to face him.

Nick bit his lips and took another deep breath. His heart was a fist pounding on his ribcage.

This was definitely the worst start of a day in his life – and unfortunately not only for him, he had to realize, after poor Klaus began to scream in pain.

* * *

It was surely the worst emotion ever, but Juliette was happy the first time since Nick vanished that night at the container yard. It was a good feeling to finally know what happened to her own body after this body began to react differently. And, as weird as it sounded, she was absolutely sure Nick was not only alive, but would also find a way back to her in time to welcome their first child.

But it was not the pregnancy that made Juliette happy. It was Monroe and Rosalee coming along and spending most the the afternoon planning, and continuing to do so into the evening. When Nick gote back he would be stunned, not only about her being pregnant but also about the new room on the second floor Monroe wanted to built together with the Eisbiber Bud.

Planning this made Juliette happy, distracting her from her usual sorrows about her lover. And she was happy to have some friends around with whom she could talk openly. True, she also talked to her usual friends, especially about Nick and his disappearance, but she couldn't tell them all the truth about the Cracher-Mortal, the Wesen and the zombies.

She had ordered pizza for them all. Because, her first reason, she was hungry and felt the overwhelming cravings for hot, greasy cheese and pepperoni, but also because she simply was too busy being excited to cook. It was good to have some friends around.

When the knock sounded from the door, Juliette was sure it was the delivery man with the ordered pizza. Her purse in one hand, she opened the front door ... only to take a step back, eyes wide in astonishment.

"Evening, Juliette," Wu said softly, lifting a small bouquet of sad-looking flowers. "I – I only wanted ..." he stumbled, tongue tripping over his teeth. With hanging shoulders, he stared at the floor as though it could give him the answer.

"I hope it's the pizza, I'm starving!" Monroe said from the living room. "You need some help?" With that, the Blutbad came along, only to stop in the middle of a stept. "Well, that's the most interesting delivery boy in my life, I swear!" he said. "Evening – sergeant, right?"

"What are you doing here?" Juliette interrupted.

Wu barely looked up. Again he shrugged. "I thought maybe I should look after you. But I see it isn't needed, right?"

Juliette shook her head. "Come in," she said.

Wu was still hesitating, staring up at Monroe. "You are Nick's roommate, right?" he finally asked.

Monroe nodded. "I am."

Wu still seemed very timid about what to do next. "Maybe," he finally said, "I should come later. I don't want to disturb you."

"You are not disturbing anything!" Juliette decided. With a bright smile she waved him in. "Come in and have a seat. It's been ages since we talked!"

Wu took a fast look over his shoulder but finally, with a weary sigh, he came into the house and went into the living room to find Rosalee there, sitting on the couch Nick had slept on three months, and flipping through the pages of a magazine.

"I should leave. I'm not the best one to hang out with right now," Wu said, turning around, only to find his way out blocked by Monroe, who was looking at him, frowning.

"Take a seat and tell us what's bothering you," Juliette said. Exchanging a look with Rosalee, the Fuchsbau then stood up.

"What about a smart tea?" Rosalee asked.

Wu turned around, feeling caught and helpless. He finally nodded. "Okay," he said.

"Then first sit down and tell me what's going on," Juliette said, seating herself on one of the armchairs of the other side of the couch. "If you want to speak to me in private, I'm sure Rosalee needs a little help in the kitchen in finding everything."

Wu slowly moved to the couch and sat down there. The bouquet he put on the table, and then he noticed the magazine Rosalee had looked through. With wide eyes he looked up again. "Oh!"

Monroe took the flowers from the table, looking down at Juliette with a silent question. "Underneath the sink. Thank you." Juliette smiled at him before she turned her attention again on Wu. "Yes, it's a surprise for me too. That's why Monroe and Rosalee are here," she told him.

"Is it – I mean it's not that you have to answer me but - ?" Wu looked down again.

"It's Nick's, yes," Juliette told him. "And now, what do you want?"

Wu looked at the magazine. One of those magazines for young couples expecting or beginning to raise their kids.

"You will hate me," he finally decided.

"I'm not hating anyone. I have no reason to," Juliette said. "Why would you think so?"

Wu looked up again but he couldn't stand her eyes. "I should have said something two months ago. Now it's probably too late," he finally said.

Monroe and Rosalee came back from the kitchen, but both stopped at the dining room after they saw Wu still struggling.

The sergeant finally looked up again. "I saw Nick, and very likely I was the last person to see him before he disappeared." Suddenly his voice was hard. "I – I don't know why but I somehow forgot it. There was so much going on that night, so much chaos. I mean, you remember that pretty much yourself, right? All those people, acting crazy. All those – those _monsters_. I mean, I know what the captain said afterwards. But, seriously, did you buy that?"

Juliette felt a stitch in her heart with Wu's words, but she kept her smile.

Whatever Wu had seen, it wasn't his fault. She remembered him very well back then. Wu had witnessed a lot that night, not only that he had to kill a zombiefied Wesen which had woged in front of him, he also had witnessed how Sergeant Franco was shot by another zombie. Franco was alive and would return on duty soon. But Wu was another story. No, Juliette couldn't hold him responsible. She believed him that he forgot about one scene. It only was hard that this one forgotten scene was about Nick.

Rosalee came back, took a seat next to the sergeant and gave a cup to him. "Here, this will help you," she said with the soft voice Juliette knew pretty well. She herself used that voice at work to bring not so good news about their beloved pets to the owners.

So she was right and Rosalee's tea was more than the usual tea brought out of one of her kitchen units.

Wu sipped before he put the cup on the table.

"Now tell us why you think you are the last person who saw Nick?" Rosalee said.

Monroe put the flowers, now placed in a vase and watered, on the dining table before he headed back to the living room, joining the others.

Wu sighed and began to move the cup with the handle. "I saw him," he finally answered.

"Where? When?" Monroe wanted to know.

Wu looked up and shrugged. "Back then, in that night at the container yard," he answered. "You know I was the one supposed to stay on Franco's side. When he got shot, I was there and wanted to put that crazy guy in custody. But he – I told him to put the gun down. First he didn't respond but then he dropped the gun, turned around and left us. As though we weren't there, you know? Thin air." He frowned and took the cup again to sip. "Sorry, I'm more a coffee guy," he said with a small smile.

Rosalee nodded and smiled.

"What happened next? After that attacker ignored you and went away?" Juliette wanted to know.

Wu pursed his lips. He thought about what and how he wanted to tell them what happened. Finally he nodded and looked up. "I made sure that Franco got help. Franco himself said I should follow that guy – and I did. With that I lost contact with everyone. We went to another part of the container yard. Somewhere where it was quiet, no one around. And then," he stopped, again frowning and searching for the right words, "then I stumbled upon that guy with the tophat."

Monroe sat up, astonished. "The guy with the tophat? You saw him?"

Wu nodded. "Yeah, yes, I did. And that guy was creepy as hell! I didn't remember everything from that night but afterwards, I recalled that Nick had mentioned him before. That guy came out of a container, and he was followed by four of those crazy people. And those people were carrying a metallic coffin."

Juliette took a deep and sharp breath and sat up herself. "Don't tell me Nick was in that coffin!" she said.

Wu looked down at the table, studying the cover of the magazine again. "He was," he finally whispered. "And he looked ... I mean I thought for a moment ... he was so pale and his eyes wide open. I -" He shook his head. "I knew you would hate me, Juliette. I don't know why I didn't tell you or anyone before. I simply forgot, I think. And the captain already started a search after body transports that night. So, I – I don't know." His shoulders hung down and there were tears in his eyes.

Juliette fought with herself for a moment. But still she was sure Nick was alive. She didn't know where he was but he was alive. And no one would change her mind as long as she hasn't seen his body!

"But I was wrong," Wu finally whispered. "Nick was alive. I saw it."

Nick in a coffin! That was probably the worst thing that could happen to him. Juliette knew about Nick having issues with small rooms. To be caught in a coffin would only make it worse.

"Wait a minute, did you say, you were wrong and Nick was alive?" Monroe asked, exchanging a look with Rosalee.

Wu nodded again.

"Why you are so sure?" the Fuchsbau asked.

Wu sighed. "I saw him blinking," he finally answered. "Seriously, some dead are doing mad things, getting up, moving around, trying to speak. I've seen a lot of weird stuff, I swear to you. But Nick wasn't dead. He looked like but he wasn't. That blinking was too – I cannot even describe it. Controlled? Timed? It looked like he was _staring_ at me with those red eyes, as though he would come to life again for a moment, able to only do one thing. I think whatever happened before paralysed him so he appeared dead like the others we had found days before he vanished. But he wasn't dead, like the others. Not really, or completely, or whatever." Again he sighed. "And there was this other guy with the curly hair. I only saw him for a moment before he disappeared back into that damned container they also brought Nick out from. I'm sure he had something to do with what was going on there. And I'm sure he looked somehow familiar. Not like I had met him before but maybe a relative of someone I know."

"Can you describe him?" Monroe wanted to know.

Wu looked up to him, thinking about the question for moment before he nodded. "I think so."

Monroe exchanged a look with Juliette before he stood up. "You should drink the tea before it gets cold. It's a good one for your nerves," he said before he left the living room in direction of the kitchen again.

"I need a glass of water," Juliette decided and followed the Blutbad.

Monroe was pacing the small kitchen up and down when she joined him.

"What do you think?" she asked him.

Monroe stopped. "I think that guy with the curly hair was probably the Royal. Would explain why Wu thinks he looked familiar. It's the half-brother of Captain Renard," he began to explain when Rosalee joined them, too.

"And what are we going to do now?" Juliette asked.

"Probably we should involve the captain. This is way above our heads," Monroe answered and turned around. "If the whole thing is about the key ... ?"

"It isn't. Otherwise someone would have been showing up at the Spice Shop," Rosalee said. "This was about Nick and probably about him being a Grimm. You know what a Grimm still means to the Royal families." She hesitated for a moment before she said, "What gives me more to think about is that we don't know what happened to the Cracher-Mortal. He disappeared like Nick disappeared. But I have the feeling he's still around somewhere. Especially since there are still zombiefied people out there."

"You think kidnapping Nick was only one part of his plan?" Monroe said.

Rosalee looked at Juliette for a second before she shrugged. "He's probably lurking around, making sure that no one here will start to search for Nick," she said.

Juliette heard another tone in this voice, and suddenly she shivered.

Good God, this couldn't be the plan!

Monroe looked around the corner to the living room, frowning. "And what are we doing with him?" he finally asked.

Juliette looked up to the Blutbad. "Well, that's easy. We tell him," she answered.

Now it was Rosalee frowning and turning around to her. "Tell him as in ... tell him everything?" she asked, bewildered.

Juliette nodded.

"As in Wesen, Grimm, human. That kind of thing?" Monroe asked to get another nod. The Blutbad began to shake his head vigorously. "Man, I knew since that moment when Nick bumped into me two years ago, it was a bad idea to ever cross his path!"


	6. Revelations

Nick didn't know what to do. The last hours seemed like millenias to him. He'd never expected to witness someone else, a real person, not a fictional character in a movie or book, would be tortured in front of him. He felt so helpless and guilty after he had watched nearly the entire time. Twice he thought his stomach would jump out of his body, while Franz did things to that poor victim, Klaus, Nick never expected were even possible.

Now he was alone up there, with the possibly dead Klaus still hanging at the other pillar, blinded now after Franz pulled the only still existing eye out of its socket. The eyeball was still hanging down the bloody cheek by a single, gory nerve. Nick felt sick.

Yes, he'd seen a lot as a cop, first as an officer on the streets, later as a homicide detective. True, he'd also seen a lot of not-so-good looking victims but this was different and he wasn't able to stay out of it, no matter if he himself was forced to watch or not. He was here and somehow he had had to find a way to protect Klaus. But a knife at his own throat, and Hans' other big hand at his head made it nearly impossible to do anything other than witness what was happening before his eyes.

Nick was positive Eric wouldn't agree to go this far with him. Not now, maybe later. Right now Eric wanted him alive and neat looking, as healthy as a horse. Sothe Grimm was reassured that no one would pull his eyes out of his face or cut off his ears or scalp him or anything else visible. But there still was enough of his body to hurt, and more such "examples" to come to let him feel guilty and sick. Until he gave in and killed Adalind.

Adalind. Didn't she deserve to die? She had brought so much pain and trouble into his life, risked Juliette's, and tried to kill Aunt Marie and Hank. Wu, as the collateral damage back then, sprang into Nick's mind. The good soul of the precinct ...

"You are the Grimm, aren't you?" a croaky, only barely recognizable voice asked, barely loud enough to echo in the circular chamber. Nick was sure, usually he had overheard it.

He looked to the fataly wounded Wesen at the other pillar, trying not to stare at the dangling eyeball. "I am a Grimm, yes. But I'm not going to hurt you," he answered. "I mean, I wish I could help you."

"I knew I was dead the moment the Hundjager came into my house," Klaus told him weakly. Slowly, he lifted his head, only a little bit as it had to be a huge effort for him to do. "No, you are the Portland-Grimm, right? The son of Reed and Kelly Burkhardt."

Nick frowned. "You've heard of me?" he asked, blinking. "You knew my parents?"

The bloody lips were lifted in the corners. "I knew your father. He was a brave man. Looks like you would come after him."

Nick smiled back, sad and sympathetic.

Klaus' head fell back on his chest. His breathing was detectable now, and Nick could see the shuddering rise and fall of his chest. He had seen this before, Nick remembered. Not often, and he always was more than grateful when he only had to deal with the body afterwards. But these were the last minutes, the last, painful breaths before Klaus died.

"Don't give up," a whisper, nothing more.

Nick looked at the other man. "What?" he asked.

"Don't give up, Grimm. You are a better soul than anyone here. Reed never gave up, that made him special," Klaus told him.

Nick frowned. "You should rest and stop talking," he said, as much as he would like to learn more. He remembered his father, yes, as someone only barely at home but a very kind and grounded person when he was around. Nick remembered him as someone he looked up to during his childhood.

"I don't have much time anymore, Grimm," Klaus whispered, "and there is still so much for you to learn. You are very valuable, for both sides. You have to choose wisely. And you have to stay pure. As long as you haven't killed an innocent, no Royal really has any power over you. Do you hear me?"

Nick's brow furrowed.

Kill an innocent? He didn't want to kill an innocent.

If Eric would force him into killing Adalind, he would, he realized. The real question was, why Eric wanted Adalind dead after he talked about her as his fiance?

"I'm a captive, like you," Nick said softly. "I cannot do anything."

"Follow your heart ..."

One long - too long, never-ending for Nick's ears - breath emitted from Klaus' lungs, while his body relaxed completely.

Nick stared at the Wesen, tears in his eyes. Tears for this near-complete stranger he had just met but who was kind to him, talking to him and warning him even as he died. Tears for being helpless, for not able to do anything to help or comfort Klaus during his last minutes, to be able to let his pain disappear. Sorrow for a good man, dying under inhumane circumstances.

Nick knew what Eric wanted to show him with this. Suddenly he knew it perfectly, and he felt bitter about it. This was another way of torture than he thought the Royal would go with him. Eric would suggest that it was he, Nick, who killed Klaus and surely others to come. Nick would see them all die, he was sure. Probably Eric would also give also the order to torture him, but Nick wasn't sure anymore. Not after what the Royal really had in mind for him.

No, as long as he was needed, he would probably be safe. The moment he lost this state, he would be in danger.

Nick felt so bitter about this heartless, pointless death, he really wished he was free and had a weapon. He would use it, oh yes, he would hit Franz into hell, he was sure.

Blood was still dripping from the face-wound down on the the ground, the only sound besides Nick's breathing. He still looked at Klaus' body in hope to find a sign of life. But there was nothing. Still nothing. No one could hold his breath this long.

Suddenly there spawned a deep hatred inside him, and he could feel the door to the deepest roots of his inheritage open. While tears still ran down his cheeks, he leaned his head at the pillar and began to scream in helpless anger and pain. He screamed and screamed until he didn't had any breath in his lungs anymore.

And then the door opened and he heard steps coming up to him.

"Hey, look at that! That little guy is dead!" Franz told his friend and passed Nick without even recognizing him to check on Klaus.

"He just died," Nick told them with a throaty voice. He felt like he could chew through the pillar he was manacled to "What else you want to do to him now? You cannot kill him twice!"

Hans showed up at his side. Leaning against the pillar, he watched Nick very closely before he started to laugh.

"Look at that, buddy! Shorty here is crying – for a damned little Eisbiber!" Hans bawled.

"Are you serious?" Franz turned around, staring at Nick.

Hans grabbed the younger man by his chin and lifted his face. "I don't think this is sweat. Whatcha think?"

Franz came closer, grinning. "Cute!" he decided. "And you are sure you're a Grimm? You are a shame to our kind!"

Nick stared up to Franz, moved his eyes as far as he could to Hans.

Did he say, to _our_ kind? It wasn't possible ...

No, these clowns weren't Wesen. They were Grimm! Just like him! Grimm!

Suddenly, Nick felt really sick.

Yes, he'd known about that Grimm in Europe still were working for the Royals. Surely he did. And he also knew the most, maybe all Grimm were hunting Wesen, just like he did. The only difference was, he only hunted down the bad ones, like Aunt Marie had told him to before she died.

It was always a challenge, especially during the three months on Juliette's couch, when he was getting angrier day by day, seeing the love of his life drifting away from him. He had felt, really felt, what it was what he had inherited. He was a hunter, centuries of hounding and killing drilled into his genes, running through his veins as thickly as blood.

But this was the first time ever he had met other Grimm besides his mother or Aunt Marie. Wasn't this supposed to be a friendly meeting? Instead he was a captive, bound to a pillar, two of his own kind making fun of him.

"I'm not a shame for my kin," Nick finally said, baring his teeth. "I'm probably a better Grimm than you two put together. Look at me! I'm tied up. What about you two, huh? Would you take on me if I was free? What do you think?"

"You'd better shut up, Shorty," Franz told him, tapping with one finger at Nick's chest like Eric did it last night. "It won't take too long to prepare you, believe me. You are not the first one we've to work on."

"Why did you tell him that?" Hans demanded, giving his companion a slide shove. Grabbing Nick's arms, he waited until Franz opened the locks. "Move, Thomas!" he ordered then, twisting Nick's arms behind his back.

Nick heard the handcuffs close around his wrists, this time behind his back. A moment later, there was also that sack from the morning pulled over his head again.

Was it possible that Hans and Franz didn't blindfolded him to keep him helpless but to hide his face from others?

Nick wasn't sure. But after what Klaus had told him before his death, it was possible. And that could mean help was closer than he thought before ...

* * *

Sean was busy with the new cases. For some reason if was like he never had enough detectives since the Grimm went missing. Surely not Nick's fault but it was annoying to manage the precinct now. And because the only way of getting someone to take over for Nick would be to send an MIA-note to the commissioner, Sean would have had a pretty difficult time himself explaining how one of his detectives had gone missing while the rest of the precinct, including himself, didn't know about what he was doing. So Sean had no other choice but to join his crew and take over some of the cases himself.

But he had to confess, he wasn't that good anymore in investigating. Maybe he never was, as his way to the top of a precinct was more the political one than claiming success on success. He was good in solving problems and also in having an ear for his force. But unfortunately not in solving and closing cases.

Maybe, now, after two months without any sign, he should fill the MIA-note. It would probably also help Juliette with dealing with this loss.

It was hard to believe that Nick might be gone forever and would never come back. Even harder because Sean felt responsible for the young man. He should have told him earlier, he should have revealed himself to Nick long before he did. He never should have tried to fulfil the family business with killing Nick's aunt. That was something Sean still did not fully understood. True, Marie Kessler had one of the last missing three keys, which she had given to her nephew. But she was also a Grimm, a very effective Grimm after all he had heard about her.

His family always had tried to deal with Grimm in a special way. Whether or not they were the first in the agreement to recruit Grimm into their own forces, this was not completely clear. There never was a problem with the Grimm, not after the first Key-Grimm died. So what was going on here?

Sean wished he could have asked Nick. At the very least they both should have put their knowledge together to get a root for cooperation. Instead, he lost one and a half years before he was finally caught in a corner he only could get out of by revealing his true nature. After that, he never fully trusted Nick anymore, and Nick himself had told him the same.

How could the life of one person change an entire city?

In Nick's case, it was his efficiency, his ability to put the right ends together, and surely the other ability to read others like books. During the last two years while Nick turned more and more into the Grimm he was, the Wesen-community also changed in Portland. The majority of criminals left while the more peaceful Wesens were staying here. Now, after two months without Grimm protection, the criminal Wesen slowly came back. And there still was this damned zombie-problem!

Sean was more than busy. Instead of sitting at his desk at his office, he took over the empty table at the place of Burkhardt and Griffin. Nick's desk was empty now, his belongings in the locked drawers, his computer and telephone on Sean's new table. The keys to those drawers were held by Sean, after he called Juliette about it.

Now he was sitting at this second table, reading the last report from the forensics about a series of burglaries. The whole case smelled like Wesen and only two months ago Sean had handed it over to Nick and Hank. Now he had to deal with it himself, and he hoped he could finally find a foothold.

Of the corner of his eyes, he saw movement from the main-entrance. Not that this was so rare, the precinct always was pretty busy with people coming in or leaving. But this time Sean also heard a familiar voice and looked up to see Nick's roommate, a Blutbad, lurking into his empty office. And Juliette standing near him, looking around.

Something was different about her, Sean realized when he stood up. There was something, like a small glow, around her body.

"Juliette, Mister Monroe," Sean greeted them and stepped around Hank's empty table. "This is a surprise. What brings you here?"

Juliette looked up to him.

She was pretty, no mistake. Maybe he really had tried something after she broke up with Nick, Sean realized, if the feelings had grown the natural way. But there hadn't been natural. They were the product of hexen-magic.

"We've news," Monroe told him.

"And we need your sketch artist," Juliette said.

Sean frowned. "Why?" he asked.

"Because we are bringing something that you surely missed," Monroe said and waved at the entrance.

Sean turned around to see that woman, the owner of the Spice Shop down in the Perl, leading his missing sergeant into the precinct.

"Wu!" Sean stared at the Asian cop, then, arms akimbo, he gave Wu one of his very serious looks. "I was looking for you at your place. Where've you been?"

"Everywhere," Wu told him, shaking his head. "I had to clear my mind before I went to Juliette's."

"And there he told us something very important," Juliette ended for him with a bright smile.

Sean got a bad feeling. "About what?" he asked.

"About what happened to Nick," answered Monroe.

That was enough!

Sean took a look over his shoulder, then he gave the whole group a sign to enter his enclosed office.

Whatever happened that night, and whatever happened before, Sean was sure there was a spy in his precinct. The last thing he needed now was this spy listening to what the group had to say.

Inside the office, he closed the blinds before he turned around. Looking at the entire group, he frowned again.

"Did you witness something you didn't tell during the interrogation?" he asked Wu.

The sergeant nodded. "I saw that guy Nick mentioned before. That guy with the tophat," he answered.

The Cracher-Mortel? And Wu was standing there in front of him, not zombiefied?

Sean was impressed.

"But he saw another guy, too. And I think that's the more important thing," Monroe said.

Sean frowned again. "What other guy?" he wanted to know.

Wu looked down to the ground. "I only saw him for a second, so ... I ... I saw Nick in a coffin, sir."

Sean stared. Nick in a coffin and a Cracher-Mortel around him didn't mean Nick was dead. It only meant Nick was more dangerous than usual after said Cracher-Mortel would have zombiefied him, too.

"Tell him about that guy with the curly black hair, man. We are here to talk about that," Monroe said.

Sean startled. "Curly black hair?" he repeated.

Wu nodded. "That's the guy I only saw for a second."

Sean lifted his chin. "Curly black hair, characteristic nose, arrogant look in the eyes?" he asked. Moving to his desk, he opened one of his drawers and got an envelope out of it. He opened it and began to search the inside until he found what he was looking for. He showed a photo of his brother Eric to Wu. And Wu's eyes widened.

"That's the guy!" his sergeant told him, agitated. Monroe, Juliette and the other woman, Sean thought her last name was Calvert, looked at the picture themselves.

Sean hesitated after he put the photo back into the envelope. He looked at Wu, then at Juliette and at last at the two Wesen.

"How much does he know?" Sean asked of no one in particular.

"That's why we are here," Juliette answered. "We think it's time to bring Wu into the loop."

"Into what loop?" the sergeant wanted to know, looking bewildered. "Are you guys nowadays into some kind of weird LARP or something? What it that what happened at the container yard?"

Sean stared at Juliette. "So, I assume, you are in now, too?" he asked, ignoring his perplexed sergeant.

Juliette nodded. "I found it out to keep my mind straight," she answered. "And yes, that was why I was with Nick, Monroe and Rosalee at the container yard back then."

Sean nodded. He looked at Wu, frowning again. "I have to make a call," he finally decided. Opening one his drawers, he hesitated and finally changed his mind, closing it again without taking the prepaid cellphone from it.

"Why would your brother kidnap Nick?" Monroe asked him. "And why didn't you know about that?"

"We aren't that close. Between Eric and me, it's more like a – a competition," Sean answered. "Are you really sure you want to do this? This isn't an easy way to go," he finally asked.

"If it means we can get Nick back, we are ready for everything," Monroe answered firmly.

Sean sighed.

It could explain a lot, he decided. The false documents, the fact that Eric was traveling during the last two months to let all the rumours calm down. The murders in Europe. The other body costums in New York had found. Eric's plane starting from Portland to Tokyo, was also the opposite direction. If Eric kidnapped Nick to do whatever it was he had in mind for him, he wouldn't take an eye from him,so precious was a Grimm to him. Eric's plane wasn't searched everywhere because at the borders of North America also ended Sean's influence.

That other dead guy, who was found in New York with the name "Thomas Schirach," could be everyone. Only one thing was for sure, his flight ended in Paris, and it was in Paris that the first Royal found dead a week later.

It could also explain why this series of murders ended so abruptly. The more the zombiefied people moved about, the more their bodies starved. If there was a way to keep Nick unconscious an immobile for two months, he probably would be in a better condition, but also surely starving.

Sean looked up. "A day before the incident at the container yard, Nick had to make new photos for his badge," he explained, again opening a drawer. "You know that one set of those photos usually include four. Nick's set only had three. When I asked the photographer, he told me he'd given the entire sets to the officer who was supposed to hand them over to me." He took another little envelope and put it on the desk. "The officer who was supposed to take those photos was you, sergeant."

Wu stared at the little white envelope and began to shake his head. "But I didn't. I don't remember," he answered.

Sean nodded. "I know. Someone else took over because of your accident with Lillian O'Hara."

Monroe opened the envelope and took the remaining photos. One was used for Nick's new badge, so there were still two.

"Who took over?" Calvert wanted to know.

Renard shook his head. "I'm still trying to figure that out. But whoever it was, put one photo aside. And I think the stolen photo was meant for a false passport, or perhaps fake ID. An old friend of mine is working for my brother now, and he's also - let us say, he keeps me updated if there's anything happening in Europe. He found three files back then, one of them was empty. I told Nick and we both came to the conclusion that it was a hired assassin, here to kill him and get the key from him. Now I think it is different. That empty file was for Nick, to smuggle him out of the country. For that, they needed a photo of him. And one of his photos is missing."

"You have a spy at the precinct," Monroe said lowly.

"A spy? Are we now in James Bond? Guys, don't you think this fun has gone far enough?" Wu asked.

Sean looked at him again, sighing. "I fear you have a lot to learn, sergeant."


	7. Things are changing

**A/N:** 1) Again thanks to_ Merlyn Pyndragon_ for doing this great job on beta this story. And also thank you for the Follows and Favorites. I'm so happy that you all like this idea!

2) As Renard's spy never got a name during season 2 but I needed one I decided to stick to the real name of the actor: Christian Lagadec. So, this is highly non-canon I fear but at least, well, he got a little background as he turned out during season 2 as my favourite supporting character. I hope you don't mind me :).

* * *

When the door to his cell opened, Nick barely looked up. Again he was sitting on his bed, his back to the wall, his feet on the bedframe.

Klaus' wretched face loomed in his minds eye now and then, which didn't let him sleep or find a little rest.

Eric lifted an eyebrow after his captive didn't react to his presence.

"Hard day, my sweet Grimm?" he finally asked, destroying the silence.

The muscles in Nick's cheeks began to work and finally he nodded. "You were there, too," he said, looking up to the Royal. "What now? Do you want to torture me to death, too? I'm not giving in, I'm not killing Adalind. No matter what she did to me, she has already had paid the price."

Eric stepped closer. Pulling his right hand out of his trousers, he showed Nick a small key. "I came here to offer you a bath and some clothes to change. But if you are not interested -"

Nick frowned. "A bath?" he repeated. "What you have in mind there for me?"

"Some hot water and soap. You understand, a razorblade is a little too tricky right now. But if you like, I think Hans could do it. The way he held the knife on your throat gave me the impression he could probably be an awesome barber. Don't you think?"

Nick stared at the Royal. Was this guy crazy?

Eric grinned and put the key back in the pocket. "Offer is still available. Well, as long as I am here. When I leave you will spend another night in your old clothes. No offence but ... you know, it's summer and I think you are probably sweating like a pig in your windbreaker." He sat down, close to Nick on the bed, and looked at his captive, thoughtful. "I've also heard you don't want to eat. That's not good for you, especially after two months of nothing. Your system needs some fuel, you know?"

"I'm not hungry, thanks," Nick said tightly.

He was, good God. He was starving! But one look at the mush that was now being served to him for the second time and he felt more than full.

Eric looked at him, frowning. "What about a real dinner? Something like ... don't know. What are you Americans usually eating? Burgers and fries? Sandwiches?"

"I'm not hungry," Nick repeated but his stomach betrayed him with a loud, gargling yowl of protest.

Eric smirked. "Oh, really?" he asked, lifting an eyebrow. "So, what about a dinner and a bath afterwards. Or before, just like you want?"

Nick looked at the Royal at his side suspiciously. "And what price do I have to pay for this?" he finally asked.

Eric shrugged. "I'm only trying to make it easier for you, you know?"

"Easier? What? That I'm your prisoner and you are going to break my will or kill me?" Nick spat out. It felt good to say that, oh so good! He felt like he'd taken at least a little revenge for that poor guy Klaus.

Eric's eyebrow was lifted again, this time the other one.

"What do you want from me? You already have two Grimm. Why me when you are not interested in the key?" Nick stood up and turned around, Eric still eyeing him. He walked to the other side of the cell, putting distance between them.

Klaus' last moments, seeing him dying horribly, painfully without being able to do anything but offer words of consolation. This still hurt deep in his chest and somewhere during this process, Nick lost the distance to this all. True, it was personal from the very first moment. But this, this was much more personal than everything that happened before since Aunt Marie died two years ago.

Eric watched him with docile interest, leaning back comfortably. At last he began to grin again. "This is fascinating! The first time I have ever witnessed a Grimm taking care for something other than himself" he said.

Nick stared at him. "What am I to you? An object for study?" He frowned, desperately trying to keep at least a little of the control. But it was hard.

True, it wasn't the first time Nick witnessed someone dying before his eyes. But it was the first time he witnessed the initation of a kill. And that made him sick, beside the fact that he felt guilty for the barbarism of his own kind.

Nick was proud of his inheritage, and so far he didn't want to lose his abilities. Not the fighting skills so much, but he couldn't imagine losing the special sight the Grimm. He loved the diversity among the humans. Not only did it make it sometimes easier to solve a crime, but the sheer beauty of the variations gave him a new, intriguing outlook of life itself. And he always thought something familiar had happened to his aunt to make her stop hunting down every Wesen on sight, like his mother did last year. True, sometimes it was necessary but Nick still had hopes that the Wesen as well as others of his own kind would finally understand that they didn't have to kill each other in order to survive. That was what he'd tried during the last two years in Portland. And sometimes, especially during the time of Juliette's memory-loss, it was pretty difficult for him to keep control. But he'd never expected to meet others of his own kind acting like Hans and Franz. Malevolent, sardistic monsters.

"You," Eric finally said and broke the spell keeping him in his own thoughts. "it is quite interesting to watch you and your struggles to accept what you really are. Your kind are killers, warriors, henchmen. You are the Bogeyman's Bogeyman. You claimed you are not a housepet. So ... what do you think you are?"

Nick stared at him again. "What?" he asked, confused.

Eric shrugged. "Tell me what you think you are. Maybe we will come to a conclusion then," he said.

"Are you serious? You and Franz just killed a man in one of the most painful ways I've ever seen. I'm a detective! Usually it should be you locked away in a cell and handcuffed! And I would seriously never make any fun of you!"

Eric began to laugh. "You are really thinking this, right? You are so deeply in love with your former job, it is hilarious!"

"At least I know the difference between right and wrong!" Nick snapped.

In the next moment Eric was up on his feet, closed the distance between the two of them and pinned Nick against the wall with one arm. His voice grew low and cold.

"I have been generous to you and so far very, very patient, my dear Grimm. But don't talk about things you don't understand! Do you hear me? I came here to offer you some kindness after a pretty hard day. When I want to hear any complaints I only have to read the latest pamphlet from the Laeufer."

"Has it ever crossed your mind that the Laeufer could be right?" Nick teased, staring the Royal right in the eye.

Eric's fist met his stomach so hard that Nick's breath was forced out of his lungs, leaving him gasping raggedly.

"Never, do you hear me?" Eric repeated. "Never talk to me this way again! I am your master and you are my servant from now on. Do you understand, my _sweet_ Grimm?"

Nick swallowed some air and he tried his best to ignore the scratching in his throat. "Then you'd better kill me now! I will never work for you! And I will never kill for you!" His voice sounded coarse and parched.

Eric stared at him, now very serious, a fiery glint in his eyes suggesting that Nick had gone too far.

"I'll tell you what I will do, my dear Grimm," Eric told him with dangerously low voice. A cold grin was growing on his lips. "I'll give you a special lesson that you will hopefully keep in mind for the future."

Nick pressed his teeth together, trying not to show the fear he felt.

"Hans! Franz!" Eric yelled over his shoulder. "I need a cask, water and some of the food for our special guest. Now!"

Nick tried to break free, yelling a very angry. "No!"

"You wanted it, sweet Grimm," Eric told him, still holding him tight against the wall while the door opened. "Now you will get your first lesson. And you will never forget it, I swear to you!"

Eric's fingers sized hold of Nick's jacket. And suddenly the young Grimm realized what the special ability of a Royal probably was. He didn't have a chance against Eric's power when he was pushed down on his knees.

* * *

The thick and usually cold stone walls weren't able to hold back the summer heat this year, which made it difficult to find the right position in his bed and enjoy a little sleep. The thick duvet he was using usually was lying on the chair, where at other times his clothes were waiting for him.

His room was more than small. Tt was more of a broom cabinet. But he felt safe in here. Much safer than in the rest of the castle, especially during the last two days. Whatever had bitten him, Prince Eric was everything but relaxed right now. He disappeared for hours only to come back with a dark look in his eyes, distracted from what usual his job was.

Christian just felt asleep when his cellphone began to buzz and dance on his night-stand. For a moment he watched this dance before he finally took the cell and looked at the screen. What he read there made his face pale. And with a nervous look around, as though someone might be in there with him, he accepted the call.

"_Qui_?" he asked. "I hope you remember what I said about who would do the next call."  
"I do, actually. But it's becoming more and more evident that the Grimm is somewhere in Europe under Eric's control," Sean Renard's voice answered. "So don't mind me when I'm concerned about what is going on with you."

Christian took another look around, then finally stood up to lock the door before returning to his bed and grabbing the cell again.

"I'm alone," he answered finally.

A relieved sigh from the other end of the line. "That's good. Is is safe?"

"It is. What is this about the Grimm?" Christian asked, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"I have new information. It looks like Eric has had the Grimm the whole time."

"What?" Christian was confused. "Seriously, I don't know. The prince seems to be ... different right now. One moment he's very self-confident, the other minute not."

"I understand," Sean's voice answered. "Are you able to check that out for me?"

"I have to act very careful and – I don't know," Christian answered. "I was more busy finding out who the mother of that Royal baby will be."

"Do you know yet?"

Christian hesitated again. "My source disappeared," he finally answered. "But I've been in contact with a servant at one of the hotels in Vienna. He told me the woman I got the information from paid a lot of visits to one guest, a young woman. Logically I wanted to try to get in contact with her. Maybe she is the mother."

"Probably the Grimm is more important right now. Eric won't stop until he has killed or broken him," the voice reminded him. "I don't think I have to mention what this Grimm would mean to us and our plans for the future."

Christian hesitated again.

For a while now he had the impression that Prince Eric probably knew about the spy in his castle. He hoped the Royal wouldn't have a clue that it was him but he acted twice as careful as normal since his other contacts were killed during the last half of a year. As a half Maushertz, he was good in hiding, unfortunately this side of him also took a lot of his own courage away. But he knew he had done a lot for his friend and prince far away in Portland. And he would do more. He trusted Sean, he looked up to him and he believed in Sean's plan to stabilize the powers of both worlds.

"I will try. But this will be double tricky I fear. If your brother really holds the Grimm, he is very careful about keeping it a secret. And as he's still into something I don't know, I'm not sure if I can find out anything," Christian told his caller. "It is easier right now to work on the case of the new Royal than on the Grimm. Everyone is interested in this Grimm. If the prince really has him I don't see how I can help him flee or bring him back to America."

"First find out, then we will talk about how to bring him back here. For now, we have to find out about his condition and if he is still alive. Two months is a lot of time to do some permanent damage to him or kill him."

This was true, and especially Prince Eric wouldn't hesitate to do anything to the Grimm.

Christian bit his lips while he thought the situation through. He didn't have any evidence but he knew the prince was up to something. Something that could also be about this Grimm.

"I will call you when I find out something," he said.

"You need to be careful and fast. Especially about the Grimm. You hear me?"

Not that he didn't know that before.

"Will do," Christian answered.

"And if you find him, you should tell him that there's a surprise waiting for him in Portland," Sean told him. "Maybe that will give him some hope and the will to fight, no matter how wounded he could be."

Wounded? Oh dear, please not!

The call ended from the other side and Christian lowered his arm, staring on the still illuminated display.

He wasn't a hero, he only was good in spying on others. But now, he feared, it was time for the mouse inside him to begin to roar ...

* * *

Hank was tired when he finally got home. He felt as exhausted as he did nearly every evening over the past few months. True, that started long before his partner went missing, but he still had cause to blame Nick.

Blaming his partner wasn't exactly the best base for a working partnership. That was why Hank was more than lucky when he was on vacation and had his accident with the knee. Afterwards, when he was back at the precinct but only barely able to do his work, he watched Nick. Maybe with other eyes than before because finally he got the distance he needed.

To be true, it never was easy or fun for him to get along with the knowledge about Wesen and Grimm. He never trusted Monroe, not before when he thought the guy was nuts, and not after he learned about the second nature of Nick's unusual friend. Same for Rosalee. While he thought she was nice, he never trusted her completely. And Nick? Man, how often did he have to hold his partner back from killing someone?

So no, Hank was lucky that he wasn't that involved into this whole weird story anymore. He needed to feel safe and thusfar had been able to manage everything. Both things he never felt while he was in Nick's Grimm-Gang.

He felt sorry for Juliette, who was going through a much worse situation than he. But to call her would have meant to get involved into this whole madness again, and Hank was more than grateful only have to deal with the captain after that crazy night at the container yard.

Maybe this wasn't the first time this thought crossed his mind. Maybe he should think about a change in his job-life as he'd been through one in his personal life. Maybe he should try to get transferred to another precinct. He only felt a little sorry for Wu, who would stay there all on his own if Hank left. _If_ Wu ever came back to duty. Maybe the sergeant has snapped and they would find him somewhere down the Columbia-River, who knew?

Hank parked his car in front of the house and looked through the passenger window up to it. A dark shadow crossed the illuminated front-window. A smile grew on Hank's lips.

This time he was sure, he'd met the right woman. Constance was kind and sweet and sexy, intelligent and shared his sense of humour along with his addiction to the Portland Timbers.

Hank never thought he would feel this way again, but this time he was really sure he had found the right woman to fall for. He had already planned to make a proposal, after only two months of knowing each other. But he only felt ... this was a perfect match!

Hank left his car and took the steps up to the front door, searching his keys. He already lived here with Constance. He only barely was at his place anymore. Too many bad memories and still those three holes in his closet reminded him of times he wanted to leave.

When he opened the door the smell of food surrounded him. Good food like his mother used to make so many years ago.

"I'm home, Stanza!" Hank yelled, putting his keys on the key holder and then his badge and his gun on a cabinet near the door.

Constance, beautiful looking with her messy hair, reddened cheeks from leaning over the hot oven, wearing a pinafore over her jeans and shirt, peeked around the corner of the living room and smiled at him. "Evening, O-leg. How was duty?"

"Busy." At last Hank got rid of his jacket before he came over into her kitchen, still sniffing the air.

Constance stood at a pan, shelling some shrimp.

"Smells promising," Hank said, setting himself up behind her. He entwined his arms around her waist and kissed the back of her neck. "Just like you."

"I'm sweaty," Constance protested but began to giggle, winding a little against his tickling fingers before she gave in. "Do you want me to burn the prawns?" she asked.

Hank stole a small kiss from her lips before he let her go. "Seriously not. You are way too good a cook," he answered.

Constance smiled, turning around to him after she put the shrimp into another pot the mouthwatering smell came from. She put her hands on his shoulders and, standing on her toes, she wanted the kiss back what he had just stolen from her. This price Hank paid only too wilfully!

It felt good to have someone around, someone normal, someone not included in this weird world Nick had dragged him into. And Constance was such a grounded person too. He didn't want to lose her.

After they separated she looked up to him with a very serious face. "So, tell me," she asked, "did you do your exercises during the day just like I told you?"

Hank grinned. "I tried," he answered softly, "but maybe I missed one lesson."

Constance looked at him with this half-closed eyes, driving him crazy just like every other time she gazed at him this way. "Then we have to remedy that immediately," she decided. "Not that your recovering will stop on the wrong level."

"This I definitely don't want," Hank told her, stepping backwards. "What I have to do?"

"Setting up the dinner table for once. The next exercise will follow soon," Constance told him.

"Yes, ma'am." Hank turned around to open the first cabinet door to get some dishes. He didn't see Constance morphing for a second.

She watched him with glowing eyes before she changed back into her human self. Turning around, she leaned over the pot with the food, watching the ingredients carefully.


	8. The first Lesson

**A/N:** First of all thanks for the Follows, Reviews and Favs :). Second again a very special Thanks to **Merlyn Pyndrago**n for her awesome work on betaing this story. I'm so lucky that you've found me :D!

And I want to dedicate this chapter to my dear friend _**Dingosue** _from Twitter. Hey, I waited long enough with the torture to make you a special BDay-present with it ;). I hope you enjoy! And again, a _**Happy, Happy Birthday to you**_!

And at least, **WARNING**: **Torture chapter!** If you cannot stand it, better don't read the first scene.

* * *

Nick thought his arms would both dislocated if Eric didn't let him go. He was nearly lying on the ground now, with the Royal still behind him, holding him down on his knees. His arms and shoulders were hurting like hell, strained behind his back. And probably the worst thing of this situation was that Nick could hear Hans and Franz rummaging and giggling but he wasn't able to see what was going on behind his back.

One thing was clear: it wasn't another nice gesture or a candlelight dinner. Nick heard the sound of water poured into something, and he heard the sound of dishes and was pretty sure, this dishes weren't meant for burgers and fries.

Damn, why did he refuse the offer? Why didn't he try to relax this one time for a second, if only to get some real food and a bath? But no, he couldn't keep his mouth shut. He had to think about possible consequences and now he would pay a price for this.

Stupid! Sometimes he was so damned stupid, he accused himself.

"We are ready, your highness," Franz finally said.

"Very well, right, my sweet Grimm?" Eric answered, pulling Nick on his feet again but still holding him tight. "Now let us see what you are going to earn for your stubbornness. Move!" He pushed the young Grimm around so he could see what the two others of his kind had set up.

Nick's eyes widened when he saw the tub in the middle of his cell. It was filled with water. The size of this tub would probably fit him, leaning over it. And suddenly his stomach began to hurt.

No! This couldn't be the plan!

Hans and Franz had pushed the mattress off his bed and placed a single dish and a bowl on the boards. The bowl was filled with the greyish mush they had served him two times before. Again a bottle of water was standing there, too, so far the only food Nick had accepted. Now this bottle seemed like a bad joke with the cask full of water near by.

"Easy decision, my sweet Grimm," Eric told him. "You will eat, here and now. You will be surprised but I would let you loose for that. If you refuse to eat, Hans, Franz and I will – let us say, there are ways to persuade you into eating. So, it's up to you now."

"What happened to the soap and warm water?" Nick couldn't resist to ask.

"Funny," Eric answered, dragging him to his bed. "Now what, Grimm? Eat or do you still need a lesson?"

Nick looked at the tub.

Did Eric really want to drown him? What else could it be for? It was for him, this was clear. But for what?

Eric pushed him on his knees again in front of the bed. Franz came along and put some of the mush onto the dish.

Nick turned his head in disguise. This stuff smelled like old shoes mixed with rotten flesh. And it was probably made with both. It looked terrible, it smelled even worse and he didn't think he wouldn't be able to swallow even one spoonful of it.

"Your decision, my sweet Grimm? Or do you need some help eating?" Eric asked, grinning wolfishly.

Nick looked up into Franz' face. The Grimm gazed back down at him, grinning.

He knew, it came to Nick's mind. And it was probably planned to get him in this situation. Surely it was somehow planned, he corrected himself. This was a lesson, just like Eric told him before. And probably this whole day, with him witnessing them killing a Wesen and then this so-called lesson, was planned from the very beginning.

A shred of memory came back into his mind while he stared up into Franz' face - how he felt in that container when he realized that everything that had happened during those last few days had been a trap for him. Suddenly he remembered the pain, when the spittle hit his face. He remembered that he really thought he would go to hell, when the Cracher-Mortal put him into the coffin and ...

The memory ended.

"Your decision, my dear Grimm? Would you please let us know what you have in mind?" Eric asked him again.

A voice, saying something to him.

Nick lowered his head. Frowning, he stared into the bowl with the mush.

A voice. A voice he'd barely remembered. The green spit that paralysed him, leaving him alone in a hell made of pain. A voice he now started to learn to fear.

Eric's voice!

It wasn't that surprising to learn that Eric was the one behind the plan. But it still surprised Nick how well the Royal seemed to know him. Back in Portland, all what he thought would be his strengths were turned against him to trap him in that container.

So what?

Nick stared into the bowl with the mush, and suddenly he realized that this mush wasn't only greyish. There were some red drops inside the bowl. A dark and full red.

Nick sniffed again.

There was a slight smell of metal, almost an overlay of the old shoes. Metal as in blood. The red drops -

Nick began to shiver. Blood and meat and who knew what else.

"Are we going to get an answer from you or should we start immediately?" Eric asked.

Nick shook his head. "I'm not eating this," he answered. "Never."

For a moment there was silence in his cell.

Maybe Eric had thought it would be enough to show him that he would be drowned if he would still refused to eat and was now baffled that he still wouldn't comply. But maybe -?

Franz began to laugh and turned around. "Do you want me to take care of it, your highness? I'll make sure he eats," he said.

A hand grabbed his hair, pulling his head back. Nick looked up into Eric's face, trying to look as determined as he could be. The Royal studied his face with some interest before he pushed him completely aside. "He will never eat this," Eric said. "You would only risk killing him that way. There will be other chances and other methods to get him there, believe me."

If Nick thought he would be free long enough to put a little distance between himself and Eric and his henchmen, he was wrong. Hans came along and grabbed him by the back collar of his jacket to haul him onto his feet again.

Eric turned around, again watching him, before he nodded. "But it's about time for him to learn a little respect. Show him his near future," he ordered.

"One day you will pay for everything you are doing to me," Nick swore. His heart began to pump and sounded like a massive drum in his ears.

Eric smiled at him in amusement. "That will definitely be an interesting occurence, don't you think?"

Hans dragged him to the tub in the middle of the cell while Franz put the bowl and the dish aside to make room for Eric to sit down.

Once more pushed down on his knees, Nick tried his best to prepare himself for what would happen to him next. The tub was full of water, surely cold water, and he would be pushed under from both, Hans and Franz. Nick wasn't sure if he should wish that they would wait too long to let him breathe again. It wouldn't be the easiest death, but at least this would be over before it got too painful.

Franz came to help Hans. Together they put Nick back on his feet again and turned him around, with his face to the cask.

What?

Nick didn't have the time to protest before he was pushed into the tub. The water was ice cold!

Nick gasped for air, feeling both Grimm pushing him down. And then he was underwater. It was so cold it felt like little razorblades were shaving the skin from his face. His abdomen locked, so even if his head was above the surface, he wouldn't be able to breathe. He tried to fight against the hands holding him and pushing him deeper and deeper into the tub. Water entered his nose and ran down his airway, no matter how hard he tried to keep it out of his body.

It felt like forever before he was grabbed out of the water. Nick gasped heavily, shivering and feeling nauseaous.

"Once more," Eric's voice ordered.

Nick was pushed again forward. They didn't give him the time to take a last breath before his face was back underneath the water. He felt the hand on the back of his head, still holding him beneath the surface, and began again to fight against it.

He didn't have any air in his lungs. He would drown if they didn't show him mercz soon, this was clear.

His lungs began to burn, not only because of no fresh air but also because of the water he'd already breathed in. He somehow managed to cough, small bubbles bursting from his mouth, and more water rushed in.

Nick fought harder, trying to break free but also knowing this was impossible. He was alone against two others, handcuffed and weakened from malnourishment. Even his own instinctual abilities were failing him.

His knees began to quiver, his movements slowed down.

And then – the hand that held him down underwater, grabbed him again and lifted him up.

Desperately Nick gasped for air, coughing and choking and powerless. He was sure that if he wasn't still being held by one of the two other Grimm, he would have fallen to the ground.

Another hand grabbed his hair, lifting up his head while he was still fighting to get enough air in his lungs again.

"Do you need another lesson or is this enough now?" Eric wanted to know, looking down at him bemusedly.

Nick swallowed some air. "I -" He started to cough again, feeling helpless and nauseated.

"You will eat now. If not, we will repeat this. And you can be sure, we all have a lot of time to teach you this lesson. Do you hear me?" Eric said.

"I'm not eating that gruel!" Nick answered, still breathless. He stared up at the Royal, as infuriated as a bull.

"Oh, you are not eating the mush, you are right. You will get another diet now." Eric took over for the Grimm, Nick wasn't sure which one, still holding him. "Go and bring some dry clothes for him. I'll take care of him," the Royal ordered. Dragging Nick back to the bed, he pushed him onto the bed boards.

Nick was still busy with regaining his breath, and he slowly became truly aware of how cold he was. His shirt was drenched, as well as the windbreaker. water has splashed on his pants. Surely a result of his useless attempts to fight.

"I hope you are better now," Eric said to him, pushing him back into a sitting position. "Take off your clothes before you get sick," he ordered, opening one of the handcuffs. "And don't even think about doing anything stupid, my sweet Grimm. You wouldn't only have me to fight, believe me."

Nick still shivered. With one hand he wiped over his face before he pulled off the windbreaker, then the shirt.

The cell was cold. Now he realized how cold. Rubbing his arms vigorously, he tried his best to warm himself up again.

Eric still stood in front of him, watching him carefully.

When steps came closer, Nick looked up to see Franz again entering the cell, another dish in his hands. A quick look told Nick that the bowl of gruel was gone. Only the water bottle still was there, on the ground near the bed.

"Eat," Eric ordered.

Franz put the dish beside Nick on the board. The young Grimm looked down at a sandwich and a small smile lifted the corners of his mouth.

Maybe he lost the battle, but somewhere in the middle of it he won a little.

Hungry as he was, Nick grabbed the sandwich and started to eat it, ignoring the cold looks Eric gave him.

* * *

"Why do you think I should tell Wu?" Sean asked after he entered Juliette's house.

It was now morning, another morning like so many others he'd seen since he had to leave his home back when he was only a teen. The attempt to return later, when he got a stipendiary from the Sorbone in Paris didn't really count. It felt weird back then, but he always felt more home in Genieve. Paris was a beautiful city, no mistakes there. But there was only one place that was truly home. Unfortunately this place never was accessible anymore for him after his mother took him away.

Now, again at Juliette's and Nick's home, he did not really know what to do. The group came to the conclusion they should meet for a breakfast here, as this house was known to every one of them. No, Sean felt like an intruder here. He didn't want to be here. On the other hand, this was a possibility he shouldn't miss.

Juliette looked up at him. Her lips were looking warm and soft and sweet to him. But it wasn't too hard to fight until he had himself under control again.

"Because I think Wu deserves the truth, especially from you," she said. "You've sent him in a lot of dangerous situations,"

Sean nodded. "Very well," he answered. "True, I have sent all of my men and women out into danger at some point of their careers, and sometimes, I know, it's not only the usual danger but sometimes there are Wesen involved. But that doesn't explain why you want me to initiate this revelation to Wu. I'm not as pretty as a Fuchsbau and definitely as neat as a Blutbad," he added. "I think I deserve a truth like Wu. So, why I am the one you chose?"

"Because you are his boss, I assume," Monroe said bluntly.

Juliette lifted an eyebrow. "No," she answered, "I think you owe this to Nick. It's pretty easy to show when you have friends like Monroe and Rosalee. But it is definitely much more difficult to do so without support."

"So you think I don't have support and I'm only supporting myself?" Sean looked from one to the other, awaiting the answer.

"You _are_ supporting, only you are a little slow sometimes," Monroe answered.

Sean turned again to Juliette. "A Zauberbiest isn't something cute or pretty. Most other Wesen avoid us," he explained. "I don't see how this should work on Wu, who's already damaged. I would probably put him over the top."

"I didn't say you should reveal yourself to him," Juliette said, shaking her head, "but I think you owe him an explanation why he nearly went nuts during the last eight weeks. I know that I wished for a while I couldn't remember Nick. But now I can, and I want Nick back. What more you need to know to do this?" She lifted her chin.

Sean sighed.

If this was easy, he probably would have thought about is two years ago. But it wasn't. For no Wesen. Grimm had done a lot of damage during the past several centuries.

"Well, at least it would be the right thing, man, you know?" Monroe suggested.

It was true, it would give him a little better sleep at night. But he also had to think about the possible consequences for himself. Maybe Wu would jump on the wrong side and would snap completely. What then?

"I did and I still do everything I can for Nick," Sean answered, shrugging again. "But this situation isn't comparable with anything. I'd never been there, no matter what you are thinking." He frowned and turned around. "Besides, where is he?"

"Back in the laundry room. I told him to wait there while I got Nick's laptop," Monroe told him.

Sean looked at the Blutbad, a little confused. "What's so important about that?" he asked.

Monroe, Rosalee and Juliette exchanged a look. It was obvicious that the Blutbad didn't want to answer even when the two women tried to force him with their warning stares.

"I think, the best we can do is to contact Nick's mother," Juliette finally said, followed by a deep moaning from Monroe.

Sean started. "Nick's mother?" he asked. "His parents are dead. They died in 1993."

Juliette shook her head. "His mother survived and she was here last year when I was in the coma," she explained.

Sean looked up into Monroe's face. "Really?" he asked.

The Blutbad sighed and nodded. "Really," he said, pointing at Rosalee. "We both gave her a ride. We know what we are talking about."

Sean lifted an eyebrow. This was definitely worth this visit, he decided.

Kelly Burkhardt alive and out there. And her son most likely as a prisoner in his brother's castle. Grimm never were that protective, as far as he knew. But this family was turning out to be more and more as unusual. So, anyything was possible.

"That still doesn't explain why you guys want me as a part of this," he said.

"We are trying to trust you, man. That's what we are doing. Updating you is our hope to get some updates from you," Monroe reasoned.

"You told us about the spies, I think this is only payback," Juliette said.

Rosalee only shrugged.

Sean sighed. "Well, that I told you about my spy, if you want to call him so, isn't that big revelation that an alive and probably very healthy Kelly Burkhardt is. Do you know where she is?" he looked from one to the other.

"We know that she wanted to go to Europe," Rosalee told him. "So I think it's possible that she's there. If so, maybe your spy and she can work together finding out where Nick could be."

"Won't work," Monroe said. "Remember? Kelly Burkhardt is a killer-machine when it comes down to Wesen."

Sean lifted an eyebrow.

That could be a problem, or maybe not. An angry Grimm - that was definitely nothing anyone would like to deal with. A well trained Grimm, pissed and ready for everything to save his or her progeny was very, very dangerous and probably something Eric couldn't handle.

Somehow a pleasant image, the Zauberbiest inside him whispered.

"Do you know if she's in Europe for sure?" Sean wanted to know.

Monroe shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. All I know is Nick got a couple of emails from her. I thought about informing her earlier but ... sorry to say that but I had the feeling we would be bombing some tiny sparrows in pissing her off with such news."

Sean nodded. Understandable. But, oh so, alluring. Thinking about Eric trying to get rid of an angry Grimm who was trying to protect her son was a very welcomed fantasy.

"You are grinning," Juliette said, tilting her head.

Sean realized she was right and hid his still existing grin behind a huge coughing fit.

Monroe and Rosalee exchanged a look. It was clear that they understood more about this situation than Juliette.

Sean decided the time for his pleasant daydream was over and forced himself into a serious face again. "So then we should give your idea a try. Let's find out where this will lead us."

"Very well," Rosalee said. Turning, she left the room, Monroe on her heels.

When Juliette went to follow the two Wesen, Sean held her back looking at the opened door before he turned to her.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You are pregnant, right?" Sean wanted to know.

Juliette's face turned first a little pale before her cheeks began to glow in deep red. That was answer enough for Sean.

"Is it Nick's? Is that the reason why you are taking over now?" he continued.

"I never gave up hope of finding him!" Juliette's voice cooled down a bit. "And I always tried to make you all work together again, just like when Nick told me about this creature no one really seemed to know about."

Sean remembered the Vulcanaris pretty well, and how good the teamwork between him, Nick, Monroe and Marcus worked back then. For that short time, he'd felt like he was part of something. A good feeling, no mistake. But it was also clear that this episode would be an episode, nothing more.

"I am pregnant, yes. And it is Nick's child I'm carrying, yes. And I will keep it," Juliette told him.

Sean nodded. "I didn't want to talk to you another way. I only wanted to make sure about your condition," he told her.

Juliette frowned. "How did you find out? No one mentioned this and everyone who knew wasn't alone with you."

Sean smiled bitterly. "That is the part of a Royal," he answered. "Like Grimm, we have a very special sight. But in the same time it's different," he explained, then sighed and shook his head. "But that wasn't why I wanted to make sure," he told her then.

"Why then?" Juliette wanted to know.

Sean looked aside for a moment. "Because it probably would help Nick, if he's really the prisoner of my brother," he finally answered. "Don't take this wrong but Eric doesn't have any scruples. If he wants something, he takes it, just like he did with Nick. And I fear what he will do to Nick now, if he isn't cooperating. To know that there's something important waiting for him here could give him enough strength to stand and flee."

Juliette's face again went pale. "You are talking about torture?" she whispered throaty.

Sean nodded. "I think this is possible, yes."

It was clear Juliette didn't had thought about this possibility. And Sean only could envy her for her innocence. The world out there, the true nature, was more dark than she obviiously thought it was. And he felt guilty to burst this bubble.

"You are right," Juliette finally said, looking up at him with a pale but very serious face and dark hard eyes. "It will give Nick the will to survive and come back. So, if this information will help him, let him know."

Sean was impressed with her surprising resilience and bravery ...


	9. The Visitor

**A/N:** And again thank you so much for the follows, favorites and reviews. You guys really rock! And, also again, a very special BIG thanks to _Merlyn Pyndragon_ for betaing and helping me especially during this chapter.

**Warning! Torture-chapter! If you cannot stand it, you should only read the first scene!**

* * *

Adalind just was in the middle of her breakfast when there was a knock at the door to her suite. Frowning, she looked up from her French toast after a second knock made sure that whoever wanted attention and entry to this room. The only problem was ... she didn't know what to suspect. She expected nothing, no delivery, no guest.

The third bout of knocking she decided to find out who wanted to come in and stood up. She supposed that she had move too fast or that her circulation was still sleepy, for she suddenly felt a little dizzy and thought she heard the strange voice inside her head for a moment.

Shaking it off, she went to the door and made sure the chain was still in place before she opened the door a little to behold a man on the other side of it.

This man was a stranger to her, she'd never seen him before. But she also wasn't sure if she would have noticed him IF they ever met before. He seemed so normal to her. An average guy in an average suit with average haircut and average shoes.

No, very likely she'd never met him before.

"Do you live here?" he asked with widened eyes.

Adalind hesitated for a moment, eyeing the unexpected stranger on the doormat before she finally made her decision. She unhooked the chain and opened the door completely. "What can I do for you?" she asked tentatively.

The stranger looked at her and took then a deep breath before he asked, "Do you know a woman called Pech?" he asked.

Adalind didn't even blink. She leaned into the door frame, not moving a muscle and watching the stranger.

Frau Pech ... Damn! Why she didn't she ever think about that someone would show up for her?

The stranger seemed to feel uncomfortable. He took a short look over his shoulder, shrugged and seemed not to know where to put his hands.

"Maybe I'm at the wrong room. I'm sorry for disturbing you," he finally said.

Somehow he was cute, Adalind decided, when he turned around. Cute and definitely not a threat.

"Yes," she answered after he turned around to leave her alone. "I know her."

He stopped in the middle of the movement.

Adalind opened the door a little more. "Is she missing? I haven't seen her for a couple of weeks now. I was a little worried and tried to find out about her fate," she lied to the stranger.

The man turned around again, looking at her. "No," he answered with a nervous smile.

Adalind frowned.

"Ahm, I'm not a relative or anything. I only ... Frau Pech gave some information to me," he explained, returning to her door. "A very important information, to be true. And very dangerous for the one mentioned in this information."

Adalind studied his face again.

She wasn't sure, but he could be a Wesen. She was still able to see Wesen, and during the past few weeks this ability stabilized and seemed to get stronger. Maybe because of the Royal she was carrying. But this guy was a mystery. He seemed to be a Wesen but she couldn't make out what kind he was.

He now also gazed at her and frowned. "Well, maybe I'm wrong, but is there a possibility that it was you Frau Pech mentioned?" he asked. "If so, I'm here to warn you and also make you an offer. I'm working with an interested party and – well, mayby I'm wrong."

Adalind took a deep breath. She felt she should trust this guy. He meant well with what he could offer to her, the little voice told her.

Damn! Couldn"t this thing inside her shut up?

"You're not." These words were out before she thought them through. "Come in."

When he smiled, he was cute and no longer average, she noticed when he hesitantly entered her suite. She closed the door behind him and led him into her living room.

"Do you want coffee?" she asked, showing him one of the armchairs where he could take a seat.

He looked at her, a little confused. "Coffee? Ahm, isn't coffee supposed to be one of those things a pregnant woman should avoid?" His eyes widened again after he realized what he just said, his cheeks reddening.

Cute!

"Well, I reduced my intake, but I'm not giving it up," Adalind answered with a smile, fetching another cup and pouring some coffee into it before sitting down herself again. Leaning back, she continued to study him.

He was still nervous, now trying to hide his face behind the precious China cup as he looked around with seeming fascination.

"So, you are working with one of the interested parties for my child," Adalind began the conversation.

He nearly spat out the coffee he just drank. Putting the cup back on the table, he fought the coughing fit before he finally nodded.

"Yes, I do," he answered. "And I fear I don't have good news for you."

Adalind frowned and lifted her chin. "Why?" she asked, feeling her heartbeat speed up. She knew it! Eric's behaviour the last time he showed up here was too weird not to indicate something. Surely he knew about her pregnant! Did he also knew about her trying to restore her powers?

"There are several parties interested in you not giving birth to your child," the guy explained. "The one I'm working with is. We would pay you for the child and we would also take care of you while you carry the child. But this could become a little tricky."

If he and his party was able to find her, others could do so, too, Adalind realized. Stefania could turn out as a boomerang for her, as the queen of the gypsies had refused to give her a guard. Stefania always told her the contract would be enough to keep her safe. But what if it wasn't?

He looked at her, still awaiting her answer.

Adalind didn't know what to say.

She thought she had planned it all when she came up with this ploy. Starting with putting her cat under the spell for Juliette, Adalind had devised everything. And usually there wouldn't have been a problem. According to her plan, she and Eric should be married now and she safe under his protection. But after he disappeared for a little more than two months, her perfect plan crashed and she now feared that he would find out too early about her state, and also about what she really had in mind with starting this relationship with him.

She had played with fire and now she was about to get burned. She had to hide herself, at least until she gave birth to the Royal and would be able to restore her Hexenbiest. After that, she wouldn't be so helpless anymore.

"Are you okay?" he asked, sounding a little worried at her extended silence.

Adalind took a deep breath and nodded. "You only gave me a lot to think about," she answered with a smile. "So, your party will take care of me until I give birth? I think I don't have to mention that I already have a party giving that protection to me."

He looked surprised at her. "Really? I didn't know," he said. "But I fear that probably won't help you. My client would make sure that you survive, maybe even bring you out of the country to do so. He's stationed in North America. I assume your origins, too?"

Adalind nodded. "But I feel comfortable here," she said.

"Feeling comfortable isn't necessarily the same as safe," he said.

With that, he was right, unfortunately. As much as she loved to be here in Europe, her time was very limited as long as she was pregnant. And if there were really the other Royal families after her child, it was too dangerous to stay any longer.

Unfortunately she was in the centre of Eric's might now. It wouldn't be easy to leave Vienna if she would decided to do so. Maybe returning to the US would be better now, at least until she gave birth. She could tell Eric she had some important business with the lecacy of her mother. Once across the ocean, she could go anywhere - New York, Chicago, La or Seattle. Portland though familiar, would probably be a little too tricky too now with Sean and Nick being pissed at her.

She nodded. "That's true."

He pulled a little card out of his jacket and put it on the table. "If you accept our offer, you can give me a call," he said, getting to his feet. "For now I fear I have to leave."

Adalind took the card. There only was a number on it, no name, no address. She looked up to him. "And to whom I would speak then?" she asked.

A nervous smile lifted the corners of his mouth. "Christian. That's all you have to know," he answered and turned around to leave the suite.

Christian ...

Adalind watched him leaving, playing with the card in her hand.

Could this be her way out of this dead end?

* * *

So far, this day had turned out as another good one, Eric decided while he took the stairs to his special playground up in one of the towers of his castle. Even the knowledge that his father was still sick and was unlikely to make it was a little highlight for him. After all with a little luck, he wouldn't need to fulfil his plan completely. It could be a little dangerous to let his shiny new toy loose before he had tamed it.

The Baron still informed him about any development in Portland. Anything could happen there, but so far nothing about the Grimm-Gang had been reported, apart from one meeting at the precinct Sean stood for. Well, probably only a talk about what was going to happen now, with the Grimm being missing for so long. What was a little interesting was a rumour the Baron told him about: this Blutbad roommate was about to marry a Fuchsbau. Interesting mixture, and Eric really was curious to what this would lead to, especially because the soon-to-be bride was that Fuchsbau, another member of the Grimm-Gang. Calvert was a very well known name over here in Europe and Eric couldn't await to learn more about what her family would have to say to this marriage.

Another tidbit of information that Eric wasn't likely to ignore was that one of the other families had claimed a small village not far from one of the mines the Renards still owned. Eric would make sure that this only was a coincidence and no attempt to steal his property.

Talking about his property, he couldn't await to work a little on his newest one. The Portland-Grimm still surprised him with his stubborn resilience and naivety. Nick Burkhardt was definitely worth all the effort Eric had placed in capturing him, bringing him to Europe, and now, in taming him. His cleverness was intriguing. His instincts were deeper and finer than everything Eric thought possible, even for a Grimm. And the fact that the Baron, after spitting him once in the face, was needed a second time to calm him down before they could put him on the plane and bring him here ... Yes, Nick Burkhardt wasworth all this effort.

Eric ascended the last steps and walked down the hallway.

Nick, as clever as he was about some things, still hadn't figured out that he could beat both his guards, Hans and Franz, with his intelligence and maybe even with his physical strength if he had his full power. His refusal to eat what they had initially given him kept him weak, and Eric relented because he was really worried about his new toy. Comparing the paralysed Grimm of Portland to the prisoner he was now, there was a huge difference. Nick, naturally lean and sinewy, had lost some weight. That was what Eric knew and he'd hoped his new Grimm wouldn't think twice about food as long as he could fill his stomach. Here he was wrong about Nick. Maybe because of stubbornness, maybe because of instinct, Nick refused to eat. In all honesty, Eric couldn't blame him - he himself would never eat the mush Franz had cooked together with the Hexenbiest Eric had under his command.

Well, at least his plan worked. Nick ate the prepared sandwich last night. With that, it wouldn't be that big of a problem anymore to keep him under control. It would only need one or two lessons more to teach before the Grimm fell for the spell and followed Eric. And as long as the spell wasn't working, Eric would have fun with his new Grimm in another way.

When he entered the chamber, he could hear Franz and Hans mocking their kinsman as usual. To piss off Nick was another way of finally making him accept his new place in this world. And, as dumb as those two cousins were, they were pretty good in making others angry. And Nick, helpless and all on his own with no one around to hold back the negative feelings, would finally snap, given time. That was the moment Eric was waiting so patiently for.

There were methods to use to bring Nick to the edge, mocking and making fun was one of those. Another would have been the mush, or better, its foul ingedients: Wesenblood and -meat. Grimmblood had an effect on some Wesen, same for Wesenblood for Grimm. And half rotten Wesenflesh did its best, too.

And then there was that special ingredient Nick ate just last night without knowing. Something that made Eric very comfortable about his future plans.

So far, his moves in this game of power - restoring the old family influence and taking back the keys that led to whatever was taken from his family in the 13th century - were going perfect. First he limited the sources of Sean, as he and his partnership with the Resistance was very well known by Eric. Next move was not only to get the new Grimm, but also finding a way to stabilize his powers. Something that his good old Hundjaeger bodyguard Lukas did perfectly, first with distracting Sean from the real target and then, after letting Lukas loose in Paris, in killing two of Eric's rivals. The other two keys Eric wanted so badly besides the one from Nick – well, this plan still was active and would hopefully lead to another success.

Eric had planned the most of his moves over the years, since he took over his position as the right hand of his father from his mother, after she was killed – another nice memory Eric didn't want to miss. Nick's awakening had been a surprise, but a pleasant one after he showed the first time his skills against the Reapers. But this Grimm was also dangerous for Eric's plans, as Nick was trying a different approach from his ancestors and was successful in it. Eric needed the old way of life, Wesen fearing Grimm, not Wesen befriending Grimm. On the other hand, it was amusing to learn how this special Grimm learned from his natural enemies, finally ending up in the attic of a Blutbad residence.

Eric walked down to the source of the voices and the laughing, and finally stopped to watch the scene for a moment, before anyone noticed him.

Nick was once more chained to one of the pillars. His "new" shirt was opened at the front, exposing his chest. Hans and Franz stood outside his reach, arguing with him about some Grimm things.

Eric studied his captive for a moment. Still he thought Nick was handsome, with his big blue eyes and straight teeth. Smaller than most Grimm, his physique concealed his real strength, a good characteristic for a bodyguard. Eric didn't like hulking, beefy men hanging around him, towering over him like bulls. Not that that would be a real problem, but he liked to get all of the attention. With someone like Nick on his side, he surely would.

"Good morning, my dear Grimm. I hope your day started as good as mine did so far," the Royal finally said, pleasantly.

Three heads moved around to him. Hans and Franz both bowed a little while Nick started to frown, glaring at him angrily.

"You are ready for your next lesson, I see. A good student, huh?" Eric asked, walking over to the little group.

"Not that I had a chance to decide on my own," Nick answered flatly.

Snarky! Eric liked that. True, sometimes those comments were really misplaced, but mostly he liked to be a little snarky himself.

"Oh, I only want to make sure you don't miss a lesson, my dear Grimm," he said, leaning next to his captive. He looked at him closely. "Ready when you are or are you prepared to give in?"

"I'm not working or killing for you if that is your question. Seriously, you can drown me as much as you liket. Lynch me. Skin me. Do whatever, but I'm _not_ going to kill an innocent."

Eric nodded, thoughtful. "Well, I thought of something more ... enlightening this time. Water we already had, and I don't want to bore you to death."

He saw that glimpse, a little flash of fear only visible for a moment, in Nick's eyes. Then the young Grimm again took on his impassive, stony face.

Oh, this game was so amusing! Eric wished he really had the time to use the long way and tame his new toy the long way. It would be so fascinating to watch him slowly snap. But, unfortunately, this would take too long. Not for Eric's plans, but Sean was also clever and could eventually find a way to get his Grimm back before Eric had a chance to break him.

"Torture never gets the real answer," Nick told him. "No matter what you do to me, at least you will still lose."

Eric smiled. "It is always so interesting to talk to you, you know? Your point of view is so refreshingly new to me, no matter how often I've heard your arguments before."

Nick turned his head without any response.

Yes, this was alluring! Eric couldn't await to finally have this Grimm on his side. He was looking forward to their conversations then. Hopefully, Nick would keep one or two of his argumentative tendencies after he changed sides.

"Unfortunately, I don't have that much time today for another of our amusing games of wit," Eric told his captive, while Franz handed the stick over to him behind Nick's back. "So, ready when you are, my sweet Grimm."

"How anyone can be ready for getting tortured?"

Smart!

Nick's fingers entwined the chains so hard, hid knuckles went pale.

"I would say you are ready now." Eric pushed himself off the pillar and stood upright before his captive, showing the stick to him. "Do you know what this is? As far as as I know, it is mostly used in US." He pushed a button and a sparkle crackled at the pronged end of the stick.

Nick's face was pale, too. Instinctive, he pushed himself against the pillar, his eyes focused on the forked end pointed in his direction.

"I've heard it's called cattle prod," Eric continued. "Very effective for cattle but also for a bullheaded little Grimm like you. Whatcha think?" Again he pushed the button, narrowing the distance between the forked end of the stick and the ashen face of his captive.

"Do you really want to kill me so badly?" Nick asked. He was struggleing to keep his breathing steady.

Eric pulled a face. "Oh, come on. You are a healthy Grimm. You can stand this. And you will see, it will be enlightened for you, believe me." He blinked to Hans, who was leaning at the wall and awaiting for what was going to happen. Then he lowered the stick, frowning. "Or are you giving in and accepting my demand?"

"Never!" Nick snapped.

Eric shrugged. "All right then."

With that, he touched Nick's chest with the forked end of the cattle prod for a moment, watching the spasm his captive couldn't fight. The Grimm managed to withhold a yelp, but then he gasped, teeth bared defiantly.

"You know how to end this, right?" Eric asked after he lifted the prod again.

Nick looked at him, his body starting to shiver. The fear was now very visible in his eyes, but he kept his mouth shut. Sweat was breaking from his skin.

This was going to be a very interesting day, Eric decided when he again touched his cpative with the activated cattle prod, and he heard Nick scream for the first time.


	10. Hard times

**A/N**: Sorry for the delay. Over here was a slide internet-problem that needed some time to get solved. Anyway, thanks to _Merlyn Pyndrago_n again for her awesome work! Good luck for you and let me know when you are ready. I was a little ... uhm ... motivated during the time without internet ;)

* * *

This was definitely not his time or his usual working schedule, Sean decided when he left his SUV and walked to the crime scene. No, for him, the night was there for sleep, not for hunting the bad boys. For a moment he wondered how he'd managed to stand his years in uniform before he began to climb into higher positions.

Sergeant Franco, still a little pale after being seriously wounded at the container yard two months ago, handed a clipboard to him after a mumbled, "Morning, sir."

Sean nodded and began to study the first report. And suddenly he was bombarded with an episode of deja vu. Same forced entry, same way out, same things stolen – as far as the owners could tell – and same footprint in one of the flowerbeds in the backyard.

The burglar had been here, and the only difference to the other crime scenes was the body lying at the foot of the stairs.

Sean stepped closer, looking at the body.

He knew this woman. The housekeeper of the owners. He'd seen her a couple of times on Sundays on her way to the church.

Sean took a look around but didn't find anything obvious pertaining to the murder.

The other victims all were Wesen, and so he believed to find another family here. But he couldn't make out which kind.

"It's been told to me that, beside the dead vic, everything is like a case of deja vu," a voice said to him, which brought him back to his feet again. Turning around, Sean's eyes widened.

"Wu?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

Last evening was not really informative after they exchanged their news. Monroe gave Nick's laptop to Wu, and then Juliette claimed to be pretty tired. So they all left. Sean had taken Wu home himself, making sure the sergeant was okay. Wu seemed a lot better now, more grounded and calm.

"What are you doing here, sergeant?" Sean wanted to know.

"This is my shift," Wu answered, standing near the window where the burglar had forced his entry. "I've hacked Nick's password. Wasn't too hard but ... what the heck is a Grimm?"

Sean shrugged, returning the look Wu gave him with a humorless smile.

It was a little premature to explain something like that to the sergeant, and Sean still wasn't sure if he should tell at all. True, Wu still was more calm now than he was during the last few weeks, but it was obvious that something was working on him. The chance was high that Wu would snap and go completely crazy before he accepted the true nature of this world.

"So, you don't have any idea what a Grimm is?" Wu repeated and Sean felt like his sergeant was just about to interrogate him. Him? He was Wu's boss!

"I have no idea what Nick did in his spare time. It was rare enough," Sean answered. Turning back to the victim, he hoped he could distract Wu. "I've seen her a couple of times on Sundays. I think she went to the church."

Wu now looked at the victim. "The first time the burglar killed?" he asked.

Sean nodded.

"Why don't you call for another detective, sir? If I'm allowed to ask this. You are not supposed to solve the cases yourself," Wu turned the topic again.

"I would have a lot more to explain than I want to," Sean answered. Turning again to his sergeant, he frowned. "Can we please stick to one topic? It's a bit too late to get interrogated by my officers, don't you think?"

"I was only curious, sir," Wu told him. Stepping closer, he looked down at the victim. "Could be that this was an accident? The way she's lying there at the bottom of the stairs gives me the impression."

"The burglar never killed before. So this could be," Sean kneeled down again at her side. "But then, she may have had the misfortune of spotting him and he didn't want to risked being recognized. Do we know her name?"

"Melicent de Boer. She's French," Wu knew.

Sean frowned. "Sure?"

A French housekeeper? Why a French housekeeper? Why no one from a local agency?

Sean looked up, studying the paintings at the wall by the stairs. Classic art, no modern pieces. A lot of portraits, just like in his apartment.

Again he stood, took some steps back to observe the paintings.

"That's interesting," he said. "The house owners just moved here?"

"Yup."

Could explain why he wasn't sure about them being Wesen. If they had just moved from Europe to Portland, they surely have not had the time to introduce themselves to the local Wesen community. And there was still the fact that Sean did his best not to get recognized. A pretty difficult feat since Nick's Grimm awoke two years ago, by the way.

Wu looked up at him. "Why do I have the impression that you are lying to me, sir?"

_Damn_, Sean felt his cheeks reddened a little.

What was wrong with Wu? Since when he turned into an interrogator?

"I'm not lying to you, I only think this isn't the right time to tell you everything. You don't need to know everything to help me solve this case and catch the burglar." He sighed. "Are the house owners here?"

Wu shrugged. "They found their housekeeper dead and reported this to us, so, my guess is, yes."

Fine, great, wonderful.

Sean sighed again. "Do you know where those owners are now?" he finally asked.

Wu pursed his lips, looking at the notebook he was reading from all the time. He finally nodded. "They should be in the living room."

One of the forensics came in, looking at them. "Are we clear to check in here?" he asked.

Sean nodded, not really interested in that guy. "Are you in, sergeant?" he asked Wu.

Silence.

Sean, frowning, turned around again to see Wu still standing there, staring in the direction the CSI who had left the hall, his eyes wide and face ashen.

"Are you okay, sergeant?" Sean asked.

Wu swallowed and took a deep breath, before he shook his head with closed eyes.

"It wasn't true! It wasn't true!" Sean heard him whispering this three words over and over again. Looking again in the direction the forensics guy had left them, he began to think for a moment, until he understood what happened.

That forensic was a Fuchsbau, one of the few Wesen in police duty. And when Wu had seen him wogeing just then ...

Sean turned again around to the sergeant. "Are you able to recognize some for what they really are?" he asked lowly.

That would definitely be a much longer conversation if initiated, and it also would turn Wu's first question into a new perspective ...

* * *

Juliette could have sworn that, as guilty as she felt about it, she never had slept better than she was now. To finally getting the bigger part of the Grimm gang back together had calmed her down. And now that she knew Nick was still alive when he was kidnapped had reassured her. So she slept the whole night without any trouble and felt good when she finally woke up – too late to come in for her shift on time but she still could call in and moving her shift a little.

So she took the time she needed to start the day, and then her cellphone began to ring.

"Juliette, this is Rosalee," she heard the voice of the other woman after she accepted the call and smiled a little.

"Rosalee, I hope everything is fine with you and Monroe?" Juliette asked. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm calling because I thought maybe I should do something for you," Rosalee answered. "I still feel sorry for what I said and ... well, I thought I could probably plan your baby shower. Are you in?"

A baby shower?

Juliette blinked. "Isn't it a little early for that?" she asked.

"You are right, but I think the planning and preparing will take a while. I won't to do if you don't want to," Rosalee answered.

Juliette smiled while her free hand touched her belly.

A baby shower. For Nick's child.

Suddenly she felt sad and moved her hand.

A baby shower, but Nick wouldn't be around to tell her afterwards, how much fun he had. A baby shower for Nick's child, which he will probably never see and which will probably never meet him.

"Juliette? Are you still there?" Rosalee's voice sounded worried. "Is everything okay?"

No, it wasn't, Juliette realized while she was fighting the tears.

They had been through so much, both of them. They had just found each other again, having one night together before he was taken away from her. She tried her best to believe in him, to have the faith that he would return one day. But it was so damn hard without any concrete sign of him to give her hope.

Juliette took a deep breath, ordering herself to take control again before she answered. "I'm okay. Only some emotional trouble, the usual."

Yes, it was usual. No matter how weird it was that this child existed, she was fine. She would learn to deal with the emotional turmoil, and with a little luck, it will be gone later during her pregnancy.

"I will mix you something. An old family recipe. My mother still believes that it is the only reason why she gave birth to both of us, my brother and me." Rosalee did her best to brighten up this topic again, and Juliette was pretty thankful for that.

"If it's no trouble, I wouldn't mind a little emotional drugging," she answered, feeling how she left those dark and bitter thoughts behind.

"Are you working today?" Rosalee wanted to know. "If so, I could bring the tea along tonight after I closed the shop."

"We could have dinner together," Juliette said.

That was a good idea. This house had been so damned quiet and big since Nick went missing. Funny that she never thought about that during her process to get the memories of Nick back, she realized.

"I'm all in. Should I bring something with me besides the tea?" Rosalee asked.

"Just yourself. That's enough." The day was again bright and sunny now and Juliette felt good.

My, if this was about to start so early she really didn't look forward to what was waiting for her during the next eight months, she decided. If it was going to be this way, with rapid mood swings, this pregnancy will feel like she was going through hell!

"See you then!" Rosalee sounded happy, so happy that Juliette started to laugh.

"See you tonight," she answered before she ended the call.

Taking a sip from her morning tea, she thought about her situation now.

She had to talk with her partners at the clinic about her condition, and she shouldn't wait too long to do that. At first she had had to make sure that she wanted to give birth to this child. She did, and so now she had to inform the others at the clinic about her condition. It would be a little sad that she would loose a portion of her patients because of it, but she will definitely try to return to her former job after the kid was born. She wouldn't be the first single mother on this earth. And Nick might even be back by then.

She had to call Monroe, to ask him about who was going to inform the Eisbiber, Bud. And first they needed to plan how the new room should look after it's built from the free space on the second floor.

A baby shower ... Juliette felt something in her throat just by thinking about it. True, children never were a big topic during her relationship with Nick. They were just kidding about a possible family in the future but they never went into detail. Now she was with child, and she was alone. Well, not as alone as she thought she would have been during the last months when she lost her memory of Nick. That was a point she never wanted to return to.

Somehow she could understand Nick. Not with his overprotecting of her, but the love he felt for his inheritage. She was well aware of it this last two days, and after she remembered also in that night when she fell into the coma. Nick loved his ability, to be able to see those Wesen out there. And after Juliette saw Bud, Monroe and Rosalee in their second nature, she could understand why. That night at the container yard, that was another, a bitter lesson for her, the new scholar in class. The zombiefied people, partly changed into Wesen, visible for everyone and aggressive. It had broken her heart when, after she helped treat some of them, she had spend a visit to a few while they still were in the hospital. In some cases, the Wesen among the victims couldn't remember what they'd done. But some of them did, and they felt guilty for what they'd done while they were under the control of this other mysterious Wesen, the Cracher-Mortal.

Only this name made Juliette shiver.

Rosalee was right, there still were zombiefied people around in Portlnad. So the chance was high that also the Cracher-Mortal was here. And that meant the city itself was still in danger and probably not the best place for her right now.

Juliette negated this thought.

Yes, she had turned the idea around a couple of times during the last two months. With each news report about another zombie in the area, it came back to her. She could move in with her mother for a while, but she was sure she would be nowhere truly safe. She was a part of Nick's life, and with that she also was a target. Probably more than ever before now that she carried Nick's child. The moment would come when she couldn't hide this pregnancy anymore. With that in mind, Juliette was sure that, after she spent a lot of time at Nick's trailer during the last weeks, she had definitely made a target of herself. To put her mother into danger was not the answer. Besides that, Nick, if he ever found home again, would probably need her help.

No, she had to inform Monroe and Rosalee, and other located Wesen befriended with Nick to protect her. She had to stay here, for Nick's sake and for the fate of his child.

Again her hand touched her belly.

"I will give my life for you, sweetheart," she whispered. "And one day you will meet your dad, I swear to you!"


	11. The Finding

**A/N:** Thanks again for the favs. And also a very, very special thanks to _Merlyn Pyndragon_, who did a great job with betaing. Thank you sooo much! And good luck with the classes.

* * *

Christian was about to call it a night. He only wanted his usual glass of warm milk to calm down and find the rest he needed. Maybe a little strange after this heatwave, and everyone wanting drinks and meals as cold as possible. But this was a sort of tradition for him, and to give this nightly routine up would probably mean the end of his world.

During the day, after his visit to Adalind's hotel suite, he had tried his best to find out if the Grimm was somewhere around. He had to act twice as careful as usual, watching his mouth and his steps. But so far he found out nothing. No Grimm around, at least not visibly.

Hans and Franz Severin, the cousins who were also Grimm, were in the castle. Christian didn't noticed them before, and as far as he knew, to have them here usually meant that there was another prisoner down in the basement.

When he tried to enter those chambers, with the excuse that he had to search one of the stocks down there, the entry was declined. There was definitele something going on down there. But wether or not this something included the missing Grimm he wasn't sure. In addition three leaders of the Resistance disappeared during the past few weeks. Could they have been imprisioned down there as well?

Christian would try again tomorrow, maybe a little more determinedly. But now, he was tired after the last couple of nights without really good sleep. He felt exhausted and drained and one night full of sleep was the best cure he knew for this.

So he entered the huge kitchen to warm a little milk up. The personnel down here had mostly gone to bed themselves; only two of the maids still were around, cleaning up the pots and pans that had been used during the day.

"_Guten Abend,_" said Marianne to him, one of the maids. " _Du siehst muede aus. Anstrengender Tag?_"

Christian nodded, putting a little casserole onto one of the stoves. "This summer heat is killing me this year," he explained. "I will never understand how you folks down here can stand it."

Marianne laughed and turned around, drying the dishes her coworker, Bettina, was washing.

"_Dieses Jahr ist es wirklich besonders heiss_," said the washer without looking up. "_Soll ich deine Sachen noch mitwaschen, ehe wir uns auf den Weg machen?_"

Christian smiled. "That would be great, thanks," he said.

He got a mug from one of the units and poured the warmed milk into it before he handed the casserole over to the two women. His cup he carried over to them and sat down at one of the working tables.

"How are your families?" he asked and sipped a little.

"Good," came the answer without hesitation.

Marianne looked back over her shoulder, a bright grin on her face. "I'm going to get married this fall. After Matthias returns from his work," she answered.

Christian lifted his eyebrows and nodded. "That's big news! How long you two are a couple now?"

"Seven years, nearly eight," Marianne answered.

"Someone probably wanted to wait to get that cursed year done, huh?" Bettina asked. In answer she got the elbow of the other woman in her side.

Christian smiled.

Conversations like this were one of the highlights of his days. Unfortunately, not every evening he met people down here. Sometimes his own work lasted so long that everyone was gone before he made it there. So he enjoyed this little scene while it lasted.

These girls were so innocent. They only wanted to live their little lives, get married, have kids. Politics and all these games of power were way above their heads and not for their interest.

What would it be to have a life like this? Christian never learned that. As a bastard-son of one of the private secretaries and a Royal, his own way of life was pretty much planned from the very beginning. Fortunately his Wesen side was a Maushertz, not a Hexenbiest like Sean. But both men met back then in school and found out about their similarities pretty fast. Always the outsiders, they became friends. Christian was around when Sean's mother came into the classroom years ago and fetched her son to flee with her over the ocean.

Sometimes, Christian thought about such an escape himself. He was in the position to get one of the private jets and could simply flee to another place. But he knew this wasn't the answer. He had to take care for his friend, for the world to keep going forward instead of falling back into ancient times like Eric planned..

Being a Maushertz, he wasn't exactly hero material. In fact, he was more of a coward. But at one point in his life Christian understood that the only way to get what he wished was to overcome this and become a spy. It was a huge, momentoius feat, espiecally for a Maushertz, but he finally made it.

But right now, Christian thought, this time, what Sean wanted from him could be too much. So long as he doesn't find any sign of the missing Grimm, he couldn't do anything. But the plan Christian came up with, needed this Grimm. Well, it could also work with another person. But the Grimm was in the top position of his priority list.

Christian sipped another time and sighed.

He also had to take care of all the humans who would get thrown into a war they never knew was brewing. They only wanted to live their simple lives. Getting married, having kids ...

Christian's eyes fell on a windbreaker that was lying on one of the working places.

"Isn't it a little bit too warm to wear that?" he asked.

Both woman, Marianne and Bettina, turned around, eyes wide.

Christian frowned. "What?"

Marianne swallowed and stepped a little closer. "Don't tell anybody, please," she said.

"What should I not tell? That you brought a jacket to work?" he asked bewildered.

"That she took it from the fire and will take it home with her," Bettina answered. "You know how they are. We all fear them and don't want to have anything to do with them. I told her, this is a bad idea!"

"The windbreaker is new and it's a good brand," Marianne explained. "Matthias wanted one of those for himself. But they are pretty expensive over here, having being exported from the USA."

Christian stared at her, suddenly very much awake again, his mind working.

A jacket without owner, but from the USA? A curious coincidence considering his mission.

"Who brought that jacket down here?" he wanted to know.

His stomach seemed to shrink into a little ball of fire and bitterness.

"That two cousins," Bettina answered while Marianne began to cry. "They also brought a shirt, and they threw all of it into the fire before they left. But the windbreaker didn't burn."

Christian stood up. "May I see it?" he asked.

The little burning ball began to throb like a second heart while he went over to the jacket.

An US-brand, that was right. The windbreaker wasn't black as he first thought, but a dark greyish blue. Like the one Sean reported the Grimm had worn when he disappeared.

Carefully, Christian began to search the pockets and found some sweets in one of them, a serviette in another. The serviette had a logo on it, from a coffee shop in Portland. The sweets also had a logo on them, from a hotel, again in Portland.

Damn!

Christian thought for a moment he would lose balance and fall to the ground.

A windbreaker, just like the Grimm had worn, in the pockets things from Portland ...

He turned around. "That shirt you mentioned," he asked, "was that a brown?"

Marianne and Bettina exchanged a look.

"Do you know those clothes?" Bettina asked.

Christian nodded. "I probably know the origianl owner. So, was the burned shirt brown?"

Marianne nodded. "It was. I tried to get it out of the fire but it was too late," she answered. "Is that owner a friend of yours?"

He wished he knew.

Christian stared at the windbreaker and his findings.

If this was the jacket the Grimm had worn when he went missing then ...

"Yes," Christan answered. "I know him."

"I'm sorry," Marianne said. "I hope you don't think I am a thief. I only wanted to keep this jacket as Matthias wished one for himself for a while now."

This was the evidence he wanted, Christian decided. He turned to the woman, getting his wallet. "I will pay you for that windbreaker," he said. "I fear this friend loved the jacket too much to give it away. Order a new one," he said and counted money into her hand.

Marianne's eyes widened with every bank-note he gave to her.

"A word to no one!" Christian ordered and gave also some money to Bettina before he grabbed the windbreaker to take it with him and hide it somewhere in his room.

"We can keep our mouths shut," Bettina said.

Christian could only hope ...

* * *

Nick was lying on this bed, curled up into a shuddering ball. Still his hands were shaky. He felt a pain all over his chest and upper body where the electricity had shocked him. He felt so damned helpless, so hopeless, and ... lonely.

If one of the others was be around, no matter who, he wouldn't have such problems. Not actually helping with possible wounds, but only in listening and sharing thoughts. He had never missed other human beings more than now.

Why did they do this to him? Only to goad him into killing Adalind? Could that really be all?

Nick wasn't sure. True, Klaus had told him as long as he doesn't kill an innocent person, Eric wouldn't have full control over him. But ... how could Eric control him completely? He wasn't a marionette, and he was doing his best to never become one.

The small, scalded marks on his skin burned like hell. Nick was sure he never would be able to use a taser again. Not after this humiliating and torturous experience.

If only there was a real comprehensible reason for all of this. A reason why Eric set Hans and Franz in charge, to watch over him. A real reason for Eric to torture him or let him be tortured. A real answer why the Royal put all this effort into kidnapping him and bringing him here.

Europe, Nick reminded himself, he was in Europe.

Someday, he remembered, he had wanted to dig his roots up and travel, most likely with Juliette at his side, all over Europe. That was an old dream he had all the time before Aunt Marie came to Portland and his inheritage begun. Since then, Nick had to realize Europe would probably be too dangerous for a mere honeymoon.

Why did Eric put Hans and Franz in charge to watch over him? After Klaus' reaction, Nick realized that he probably was better known in Europe than he'd ever supposed. But why two kinsmen of him were his guards, hiding his face from everyone, holding him in a cell on an empty hallway somewhere in the dungeons of the castle, was a mystery.

Nick rubbed his arms when he realized he was freezing again.

Cold, weak, lonely, hurt and tortured.

How far would Eric go with him?

Pretty far, Nick answered himself. Far enough to risk his life if he wouldn't give in or break. He wouldn't give in, this he knew for sure. But he wasn't that certain about the breaking part anymore.

What if he did break? What if he turned into a marionette, without any will of his own, to be sent out to kill for his master like a mindless thug?

No, he didn't want to think this way! He couldn't!

But his thoughts, after calming down, came back to this point, starting a loop around this topic, without getting any answer.

How he would survive this? Would he survive at all?

A single tear ran from Nick's eye.

Why him? Why no one else?

He didn't know, and he wasn't sure IF he wanted to.

The lock of the door to his cell opened.

Nick didn't know what to do next, what to expect now. His fear came back when he heard the key moving in the lock. And every time he heard this sound, the fear was swelling.

Was this how his ancestor felt during his time as a prisoner of the Renards before he was killed?

Nick curled up a little more, closing his eyes like a child, pretending that if he didn't see them, they would leave him alone. But he knew how lame this game was, how futile.

Not more, not today. Please. Not while he still had to deal with the aftermath of today's torture, feeling his heartbeat missing the occasional rhythm sometimes, the pain in his chest, the wounds, the overstimulated muscles, the mental pain of being alone and helpless.

Nick was wishing himself so badly back to Portland this evening, he actually started to wonder why he still was here in his cell instead of lying on a flying carpet on his way there.

So much he'd thought impossible was real. Why not this?

"Hey, Shorty, on your feet! Move! The prince want you to clean up now!"

Nick felt a hard poking on his back, and still tried to lay prone and pretend to be unconscious. Maybe that would help a little, or give him at least a little time.

Yes, he was acting cowardly, and he knew this. But he never had been in a situation like this before, and, to be honest, he feared everything right now.

"Move, Sweetie!" Franz' voice ordered. "If you don't do it yourself, we will make you move!"  
This threat Nick couldn't ignore. Shaky and trembing with fear, he slowly sat up, hearing the rhythm of his heart drumming in his ears. He held his head down, avoiding eye contact.

"On your feet!" Franz ordered again, and Nick felt the other Grimm grab him and pull him to his feet.

Not again! Not another lesson! Not now!

But the steps, lingering and provocatively slow, he knew too well now.

Nick bit his lips, determined not to make a peepl. Still he held his head down, while Franz continued to hold his left arm in an iron grasp. Hans just brought a chair into the cell and put it down in the middle of the room. Where the tub stood last night ...

Nick shivered again.

If he only could do something! If there was someone around, someone who knew where he was, someone he could talk to without fearing, someone who could kill the one who came for him now for what he did to Nick.

Finally Eric entered the cell, watching the whole scene with mild interest before he gave a silent sign to Franz.

"You're doing better now?" the Royal asked when Franz left Nick alone. "It would be nice if I showed some sympathy, right?"

Nick took a small step back as Eric entered his personal space. The Grimm didn't notice the cold smile growing on the face of his enemy, still staring at the floor.

"But I have to confess, I don't," Eric continued. "I see it this way: I made you a generous offer which you turned down. I warned you this would happen if you did so but you didn't listen. Now you have to pay the price. _You_ are responsible for what is happening to you."

Nick shook his head but kept his mouth shut. Again he stepped backwards. Tears were burning in his eyes like fire.

Why couldn't they let him go? What was so damned important that Eric couldn't leave him alone?

"Do you fear me, my sweet Grimm?" the Royal cooed. Somehow he managed to sound surprised.

Nick still avoided eye contact, sensing the Royal standing in front of him, once more trapped in a corner of his cell. He wanted to get out of there, to flee. But he knew this was impossible. As long as he was here, in the dungeon or somewhere else in Eric's castle, there wouldn't be any way out for him. He wouldn't make it to the next stairway, he was sure.

"Do you fear me, Grimm?" Eric asked again, more determined now.

Nick cringed. Every single part of him wanted to scream, wanted to fight, wanted his freedom back. But he knew right now it was impossible. Somehow he had to stand the pain and the torture, and he had to stay sane until the chance to flee arose.

Eric stepped to him, so close, too close for Nick's taste, and grabbed him hard by his chin. Pulling his head up, the Royal studied his face, looking deep into his eyes before he releasing him again.

"You are not broken, that's good. You have a strong will, my dear Grimm," the Royal said. "And to show you what will await you if you change your mind ..." He clapped his hands and stepped away.

The next moment Franz was back, grabbing Nick again hard and pushing him into the chair. "You will sit now!" he ordered forcefully, as though the Grimm wasn't already.

Nick didn't move. Again he held his head down, again he tried to flee in his own world of dreams, ignoring the reality. Again he failed to do this, feeling so absolutely helpless and lonely, just like he felt after he had been informed that his parents were dead, many years ago.

Franz tied his ankles to the chair, then left the cell for a moment to come back with a thin rod, followed by Hans, who carried a bowl and a towel.

What was this about?

"Help me. Hold him," Franz said to his friend or relative, Nick still didn't know.

The next moment Hans' big hands grabbed him by his shoulders, holding him down on the chair. A little whimper flew from Nick's lips.

All the jerking, pushing and pulling wasn't that good for his body. He had some huge haematomae on his arms and shoulders now, and he was sure he would get some more when this was over.

Grabbing his elbow and pulling it back, Franz put the stick between Nick's body and said elbow. Another whimper came from the lips of the young Grimm. Not only the stick hurt, also did his arm and the handcuffs. And Franz just shift the stick between his other elbow and his body.

That hurt!

Nick fought against the pain, still dealing with the other wounds from this morning.

"I want to invite you tonight, my sweet Grimm," Eric told him now.

Nick moved his head and stared at his keeper. "What?" he whispered throatily.

Eric, again sitting on his bed, shrugged. "You have to learn, my dear. Not only that you will be tortured if we are from different minds, but also that you will be honored if you become what you are destined to be: a prim, brave and attractive young Grimm who will join my forces soon."

Nick moved his head back and stared at the stony wall, steadily impassive.

Of course this was another lesson for him, he knew this already. And to realize this made it even harder to accept his own role in this.

"Don't throw his clothes away, like you did with the ones last night. He will need these," Eric ordered and stood up again. He came over to Nick and grabbed him by his chin once more to study his face.

"I think you should probably wear grey tonight, my sweet Grimm. There's a grey suit that should fit him," he said to Franz. "Put him into that and let his current outfit clean up. We don't want your new clothes getting bloody, do we?" Eric asked Nick with a bright smile. "We'll meet again soon, my sweet Grimm. I hope you will like the meal. It was made just for you." With that he lifted his hand. "Shave him well. You two know I don't like beardy faces."

With that, Eric finally left the cell.


	12. The Dinner

**A/N:** Wow! You guys rock! Thanks for all the reviews, favorites and follows! And a very, very special thanks to Merlyn Pyndragon again for betaing

* * *

Adalind woke up from one of the most frightful nightmares she'd ever had in her life. She needed some time before her heartbeat and breath calmed down to normal pace again and she stopped shaking. Cold sweat was still breaking from her forehead but she managed to calm herself down eventually. Yet she could not help but shutter at what she had seen.

Eric about to kill her by ripping her apart piece by piece, but not without pulling out the baby from her body first, was such a frightening nightmare, she was sure she just felt how he took the child from her.

Her hand touched the little curve and then she sighed, relieved, to find it still in place.

Did she really want this for her child? the little voice in her head asked her again. Did she really want to spend the next few months on the run, only to finally give away what was growing inside her, when she could have it at least a bit easier?

She wanted her Hexenbiest back. That's why she formulated this plan. And she would get it back, there was no backing out now, she thought.

That little voice was silent for a moment before it asked her how long she would like to be on the run. If she would restored her Hexenbiest and Eric noticed, her best wish would be to be dead.

Adalind stared into the darkness.

This was unfortunately too true. The moment Eric found out, she wouldn't be safe anymore. She had hoped to trick him until she was in the position to control him. But what if this wasn't possible? She never heard of a Royal who was controlled by someone else than other Royals. So maybe ...

Adalind looked at her nightstand and picked up her iphone. For another moment she stared at the dark screen.

At least she would be safe during her pregnancy if she accepted the offer. Whatever happened afterwards was another question, and so far not on her priority list.

Stefania, what about her?

She would find an answer, Adalind was sure. Somehow Stefania and she would find a way to deal with this. Right now she didn't know how, but there would be a way, there had to be a way! Besides that, Adalind felt cheated and neglected by her so called ally. She was sure all Stefania wanted was the child. Whatever happened to the restoring curse, it never was meant for Adalind.

She would have a life if she accepted the offer. She trusted this guy, Christian. He was very convincing in the way he talked to her. And she already knew about the other parties interested in her child.

Adalind thought this through for a moment.

She could tell Eric she had some business to do in the US and had to leave him for a while. After the plan began, she could think about where to go. But at least she would have a safe place to hide, no matter what happened after that.

Adalind took a deep breath, activated her cellphone and opened the contact files. She had already saved Christian's number there and burned his card. The only way to keep both of them safe.

Again she hesitated for a moment, reading the number.

She was about to trust a man she'd only met one time, this morning. What if he turned out as a spy from Eric, someone who could manipulate the truth from her and then kill her after making sure she had lied to him?

Eric ripping the baby out of her belly before tearing her into pieces ...

Adalind shivered and touched the "Call" button.

There was no other way anymore, she was sure. This was getting out of her hands, and she had to at least get herself out of this before she lost her life over her plan. There would be another way to restore her Hexenbiest. Now she had to make sure that there would be another day at all.

"_Qui?_" a drowsy voice asked.

Adalind's heart missed a beat. He sounded cute, not only speaking French but also sleepy.

"This is Adalind Schade," she said, "how fast you can bring me out of Austria?"

* * *

After one of his guards pulled the sack from his head, Nick, wary of another trap, lifted his arms a little as not get blinded. But the lights were dimmed down.

Carefully he took a look around.

Hans and Franz both stood at the door, now nothing more than black shadows in the darkness. The room itself was huge, Juliette's house would probably fit into it completely. A giant chandelier was hanging from the ceiling, the fireplace wasn't much smaller. The paintings on the walls seemed pretty old, but due to the light, Nick couldn't make out what or who was painted on them. The table with the half dozen chairs in the middle of the room seemed like a toy in comparison to the vast room.

Nick shivered again. Lowering his arms, he also lowered his head again, submissive. This seemed to be a position that kept Eric from torturing him, so Nick decided to try it this way.

Hans had not only shaven his face, he also cut his hair before both Grimm forced him into washing himself. Better he would do it than his kinsmen, Nick had decided.

After washing, he got new clothes again. A grey suit with a white shirt underneath. It felt weird to wear this, not like his own. And Nick got the impression that this was planned this way. Eric wanted him to know that everything about him wouldn't be his personal property anymore, including himself. So much about Human Rights when it came to Royals.

Nick got a pretty good idea what Royals were about, and this didn't exactly give him much closure. He began to understand why everyone coming from Europe reacted so alienated. Heck, he himself would act that way IF he ever found a way out of this Hell.

"Ah, what a wonderful surprise!" Eric's voice came from the other end of the room. Nick moved around to see the Royal slowly coming up to him.

"Really, you are looking extremely good, my sweet Grimm," Eric continued. "I knew grey would be your color."

He came closer, grabbing Nick and giving him a hug.

"Really pretty, my dear Grimm." Eric looked at him again, hands on his shoulders like they were buddies. "Stunning! Come, you must be hungry."

Eric turned him around.

"Let us eat and talk, my sweet Grimm. I think there's a lot I have to learn about you. Besides the facts I've already collected."

That was a point Nick would die to find out. Someone had spied on him, and not only him. The Baron and also Eric knew a lot more about him than it would be possible if they just had Googled his name. The trap for him back at the container yard was perfect, and Nick was sure Monroe, Rosalee and Juliette also were trapped back then. Otherwise they would have found him before Eric had the chance to smuggle him out of the country.

Nick only wished he could remember more. Especially about those two months Eric told him about. The last thing he remembered was such a high level of pain, an excruciating agony, that he was simply paralyzed and couldn't move a single finger. After that, only darkness.

Did he do anything during this time? Did he run amok like the victims hitting Portland at the start of his last day there? Did he kill anyone?

Eric forced him a little to sit down before the Royal took the seat on the opposite side of the table. A table full of mouthwatering smells and scrumptious -looking food, bread and wine.

"Well, I thought we both should start now with going into detail about your job, my dear," Eric said to him. "I thought about a contract taking – let us say, nine years? It would be the time your predecessor worked for me. What do you think?"

Nick stared at a platter with a huge roast sitting right in front of him. The smell was tantalizing, savoury and he just wanted to sink his teeth into it.

"Did you just swallow your tongue, my dear Grimm?" Eric asked him, eyebrow cocked.

Nick took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a moment to focus again.

Damn, he was hungry! And all the food on this table made him even more hungry than before. To see and smell the food made it harder not to eat.

"I'm not working for you." His voice was no more than a weak whisper and he was sure even the breathing of four of them drowned it.

Nontheless, Eric heard him. Tilting his head, he looked at him again with a raised eyebrow. "Really? After what I'd done to you today, you are still turning me down? Do we really need another lesson, my dear Grimm?"

Nick looked up, flames to meet the blaze of the fireplace in his eyes. "I have a name! And that name is Nick Burkhardt!" he snapped.

His name, his memories. That was all he still owned, that was his. True, they brought him here with a fake ID. But he still was Nick, the Grimm, the cop, the detective, friend and roommate of a Blutbad, friend with the Portland Eisbiber lodge, also friend of a Fuchsbau and, not to forget, lover of the most beautiful woman in the world. That was something Eric couldn't take from him – he hoped.

The Royal leaned back, still watching him. "Are you?" he asked. "As far as I know your name is now Thomas Schirach. But, by the way, we should probably think about that one as ... well, let us say, someone else claimed that one very effectively."

Nick looked at the Royal. "So you also used me as bait for your brother?"

"I did." Eric put some food on his dish, spooning on generous piles of sauteed vegetables and creamy mashed potatos. "After the Baron trapped and prepared you I had to make sure that my brother wouldn't interfere. I know there's someone close to me selling information to him. And I guess you know that, too."

Nick shook his head, trying to ignore alluring, homely scent of Yorkshire puddings that just were within reach. "I don't know who, if that was what you wanted to know. I only saw photos of three files, one of them empty with the name I saw later in that false passport with my photo."

"You remember that? I'm impressed! The Baron wasn't sure if you would find your memory back for the entire day."

"I can remember that day, and I can remember how I was put into that coffin. I was blinded, yes, but I guess it was you who wished me a good night, right?" Nick's voice became colder and colder during these words.

He feared too-small spaces, and he would never climb willingly into a coffin. He remembered one of those stupid tests of courage teenagers did. One of his classmates was the son of a mortician and his so-called friends back then tested their own courage by lying down in one of the coffins. Nick never did. It was way too close to what happened to his Dad.

Eric chewed on a chicken leg, then laid it back on the dish, wiping his fingers delicately on a silky napkin. "Yes, that was me. And, honestly, it was way too funny to see you there. It was our first meeting, and I thought I should say something memorable. Looks like I did. Now of the matter of terms ..."

"I'm not working for you," Nick repeated, this time more determined. A muscle jumped in his jaw and his empty hands clenched on his lap. Still his chest burned like fire, still he was a little shaky from the electricity. But he wouldn't give in, not now, not ever. Well, he hoped not ever. The longer he stayed outside the torture chamber or even his cell, the more of his self-respect came back. He only hoped that it would stay this way. He would break if he changed his mind, and he knew it.

Eric tilted his head. "I thought I was clear enough. You have no choice, you are my property now. The earlier you accept this as your destiny, the earlier you can return to your beloved Portland and to your bonny little lady. What was her name? Juliette, right?"

Nick's face went pale. "You are not going to threaten her!" he said.

"If I don't have to, I won't," Eric told him. "But I should inform you that my well of information about you is still in Portland, awaiting my next orders. You don't want any of your friends injured or dead, do you?"

Nick shook his head, unable to speak this moment. There was a huge knot in his throat, and his heart, still dealing with the aftermath of the electricity, missed a second beat.

Not Juliette! She was innocent and already targeted by Adalind.

Nick closed his eyes, his hands became fists for a moment, until he got his self-control back.

Not his love, not his friends.

Suddenly he understood Aunt Marie and why she told him to leave Juliette behind, to leave everyone he cared about behind. Not only did he risk every life he cared about by being who he was, they were in danger because they knew him.

Hadn't he already learned this lesson with Hank last year?

"So we understand each other now?" Eric asked.

Nick shook again his head. "If you do anything to Juliette or one of my friends, I swear to you I will kill you!" Again his voice was freezing cold and in that second he had his own power back.

Eric didn't react, he just looked at him for a very, very long time. In the deepened silence one could almost hear the steam rising from the gravy bowl.

"I'm a _terrible_ host! I forgot, you don't have a knife," he finally said, standing up again and coming around the table. "This roast was especially made for you, my sweet Grimm," he explained, then, moving the dish with the meat right in front of Nick to his side, cut off a part of it to put it on Nick's dish to slicing it into smaller pieces.

"You should eat. Probably the last good meal for a long time if you persist in acting bullheaded, my sweet Grimm," Eric suggested.

Nick looked at the Royal. For a split second he thought he had seen something like a woge, a small change in Eric's face, but it was gone so fast, he wasn't sure.

The dish was again placed in front of him and Eric took one of the empty chairs to sit down close to his side.

"My guess is, you have no idea what you are declining here. So maybe I should tell you while you are eating," the Royal told him, nodding his head pointedly at the food.

Nick looked at the meat pieces on his dish. It smelled delicious and still looked mouthwatering. The way Juliette would have made it, surely.

"I'm very generous to you, you know? You are a direct progeny of one of those Grimm who betrayed my family and stole our property."

Nick looked at Eric again. "And you know that because you know my family tree by heart? I've no idea where the key came from or whether if it was from a direct line or not. But I know I will never give it to you."

"You really like superlatives, huh? Haven't you already learned that never is way too huge a word for you? I can turn every second into eternity for you, didn't you realize this?"

"I did," Nick answered. "But you don't know where I hid the key. And I will not tell you."

Eric nodded and lowered his head, thoughtful.

Nick leaned back, taking a deep breath. He felt better now. And, to be true, he didn't know where Rosalee put the key so he really had told Eric the truth. He couldn't tell what he didn't know, plain and simple.

With a relieved sigh, he took one of the meat pieces and put it in his mouth. It tasted delicious, medium rare, just like he liked it. He closed his eyes to fully concentrate on his meal so he didn't see how Eric looked up again, grinning wolfishly.

"Your ancestors came to my ancestors with the plea to fund their crusade. My ancestors agreed, but under the promise that, should anything of worth be discovered, your ancestors would hand it over to them. They didn't. Instead, they hid whatever they had found, put some stupid superstitious monks in charge to make the keys for them and tried to escape. Most did, except one who was stupid enough to think the best hideout would be directly in front of my family. Well, he paid the price for his betrayal, just like most of the others did. Now there are still three keys missing, and one of them is - what a surprise - yours," Eric explained.

"That is no answer to my question," Nick said. "There are also three coins out there. Does that mean these coins would have been in my family all those centuries too? No. So I think it was about the key. You have no proof that it was my ancestor who betrayed yours. Why should I pay his price?"

Eric smiled. "That's why I give you the choice to work for me, my sweet Grimm. Come on, this is a dinner for both of us. Eat."

Nick looked suspiciously at the Royal. "You are not poisoning me, are you?" he asked.

Eric laughed. "That would take a lot of the fun out of this, don't you think? No, I'm not poisoning you, my dear. I only will make sure you have enough strength to stand what you are about to learn. There are no easy lessons anymore for you, I'm afraid."

"Will you kill another innocent in front of me? Or use another cattle prod?"

"As I've told you today, I don't want to bore you to death. Every lesson will be unique, believe me. Every single one. But I doubt you will need so much anymore, my sweet." Eric grinned again, straight in the face of his captive.

Nick looked once more at the meat on his dish. It was delicious but ... wasn't there a little bitter taste after he swallowed it? Maybe it was spiced so delicious to cover a special ingredient? Could it be this bitterness?

Nick pushed the dish away a little. "I'm full, sorry. I'm not that much into meat, I fear."

"And _I_ fear, if you don't feed yourself, I will have to make you. So, what do you wish, my dear Grimm?" Eric asked, putting the dish back in front of his captive.

"What meat is this?" Nick asked.

"Good meat. As I've said, I'm not gonna poison you. Eat!"

Nick heard the shuffling steps of the two other Grimm. The fear came back immediately. Again he lowered his head, he seemed to shrink in his own imagination.

"Will you eat or do I have to fed you?" Eric asked, a dangerous playfulness in his words.

It was a damned meal, nothing more, Nick tried to tell himself. A little meat, nothing that would kill him – he hoped. And he could use this meal, his body needed it. He had not eaten enough during the last few days.

If he ate now, it would be the start of making his brain break. Eric would win, and that he couldn't let happen. If he ate, Eric would turn him into his marionette.

But if he didn't, they would force him into eating. They would torture him to make him eat. Eventually the meat would end up in his stomach, and would turn into the fuel he needed to continuing his fight.

But that meant giving in! Eric would win.

Nick stared at the dish in front of him, still listening to the steps, slowly approaching from behind.

He should act like a hero and decline. He should fight them, win and attempt to flee. Unfortunately, nothing from that would happen.

Eric looked at him, watching him closely.

No, he wouldn't break just because he ate a little meat, Nick told himself. The meat would end in his stomach, he could only choose the way how.

With the feeling like he had lost the battle, Nick finally took one of the pieces and ... ate it. But it tasted bitter from the very beginning ...


	13. The Abduction

**A/N:** Awe, thanks guys, for the favs, followings and the reviews. You really rock! And again a very special Thanks to _Merlyn Pyndragon_ for her awesome work on betaing this. Thank you so much!

* * *

Juliette's first thought was, it's Rosalee, when she heard a loud, enthusiastic knocking at the front door. A smile curled her lips while she walked over to open the door. The surprise was ... it wasn't Rosalee.

"Monroe!" Juliette said, really so surprised that she lifted her eyebrows. "What brings you all the way to my porch?"

The Blutbad with the heart made of gold smiled down at her and handed a basket over to her. "I did a little baking and thought, well, it could also be something for you." He half shrugged, sheepish. "Rosalee doesn't really like my pastries," he said.

Juliette grinned but stepped aside. "It's a pleasant surprise. Please, come in," she offered.

Monroe smiled back at her, a little nervous, but he came in. "Are you awaiting someone? The smell is delicious," he asked after he sniffed one short time.

"I do," Juliette told him. "Rosalee called me this morning and asked for a lady's night to plan the baby shower."

Monroe hesitated. "Maybe I should go then?" he asked. "I don't want to interrupt anything."

"You are not interrupting," Juliette decided. "Come in and take a seat. I cooked more than enough to feed you too."

Monroe shrugged and took off his coat. "Okay, if you insist. Can I help you with something?"

Juliette smiled again and went into her kitchen.

The pastries Monroe had made looked a little weird in her eyes. The smell was okay, a little neutral for her but she could live with that.

"Do you want to eat one?" Monroe asked from the door.

Juliette looked up. "Maybe later. I put them aside, if you don't mind."

"Why should I? Anything I can do for you?" the Blutbad asked.

Juliette shook her head and put the one of the pastries on a separate dish. She felt Monroe's eyes still on her, wondering what was possible bothering him.

"Everything okay with you?" she finally asked, brushing flaky crumbs from the counter into her hand and disposing them in the sink.

"I'm good. What about you? You are the one carrying a child in her belly," Monroe answered.

Juliette nodded. "I'm fine. After all I'd heard I'm really lucky so far. Some troubles with my patience, besides that everything is normal."

Monroe smiled again. "Good to hear," he said.

Juliette, inspecting the food she had cooked for this evening, looked back over her shoulder. "But?" she asked.

Monroe blinked. "But?"

She smiled at him while she stood up again. "You sounded like there would be a but. That's why I was asking."

"No, no but so far, or – no, no but."

But it was obvious that there were some restless thoughts on his mind. It only made Juliette wonder why he didn't want to share these thoughts.

"What you are cooking?" Monroe asked, pointing at the oven.

"Do you want to join us?" Juliette smiled. "I've prepared some eggplants as a vegetarian bolognese. Rosalee is a vegetarian, too, she told me."

"She is, well, mostly." Monroe shrugged. "Don't you want to test the pastries?"

Juliette smiled.

She felt loved and safe with Monroe around. He was really a good friend; no wonder Nick was drawn to him and solved some of the more unusual cases with his help.

She nodded and took one of the pastries out of the basket. Again she sniffed it and decided it smelled good before taking a bite.

Monroe's eyes grew. "And?" he asked.

Juliette chewed on the pastry, thoughtful.

Monroe watched her anxiesty, biting his lips. Suddenly she had the impression that he would probably start to gnaw on his fingernails if she didn't answer and chewed a little more.

True, the pastry was dry, but somehow she liked it. The filling tasted interesting and definitely delicious, maybe a little too tasty, but good.

Juliette nodded. "It's great. What is the fill? It's delicious!"

Monroe grinned. "You really like them?" he asked.

Juliette nodded and took another bite.

Really, this was good!

A knock came from the front door.

Juliette put the pastry aside to go answer the door. But suddenly she stopped.

There was something wrong, she decided, looking at the front door. She only couldn't name it.

To be true, this sixth sense she'd noticed a few times now, often enough to listen to it, when it happened to her. She could not really tell what it was, it was more the impression of something could happen, IF she continued.

"Is it Rosalee?" Monroe asked.

Juliette shook her head and kept silent, still watching the door.

And then she saw it: a tophat!

Carefully, trying to make no noise, she stepped back, still eyeing the tophat that was moving slowly in the top window of her front door.

The tophat! Nick had mentioned a man with a tophat and she had read about him in Nick's book at the trailer.

That was the Wesen that had taken Nick from her!

Juliette felt something rushing from the bottom of her heart, growing like a monster wave to a tsunami, ready to take control. Her hands became fists.

Still the tophat moved slowly from one to the other side of the window, as though the Wesen wearing it was rocking back and forth to a tune. Then it vanished.

"Juliette?" Monroe touched her carefully with one finger at the shoulder.

Juliette spun around, ready for everything, only to find the Blutbad behind her.

"You're okay?" he asked. "You look like you just have seen an apparition."

"Not a ghost," she answered, turning her head back to the front door. "But the Cracher-Mortal was here. I saw his tophat."

Monroe stared at her with wide eyes. "Really?"

Juliette nodded again. Then she remembered the guest she was still awaiting.

Rosalee was late. Hopefully she was only late and nothing else. But if ...

Juliette ran to the front door and yanked it open, Monroe on her heels, woged into his Blutbad form. Before she opened the door she could tell what they would find on the porch but she couldn't believe it. She opened the door so powerfully, that the doorknob crashed into the next wall, leaving an impression on the drywall. On the door there was the green spit she knew all too well now. And when she glanced down, she found Rosalee's bag on her porch, near the stairs to the path to the street.

"What happened?" Monroe wanted to know. "I smell Rosalee!"

Juliette walked to the bag, looking around. Her instincts were fully kicked in but now she didn't feel any immediate danger anymore.

"He has Rosalee," she finally said, picking up the bag.

"WHAT?" Monroe stepped closer. "Never! Rosalee would never let that happen! She's way too clever for this guy."

"Not this time ..."

Juliette looked around.

He was still here, somewhere. She could feel his presence but she couldn't pinpoint where to find him. He had taken Rosalee with him. Maybe he wanted to use her as bait, surely he would use her as bait.

Juliette felt a cold shiver running down her spine, like a trickle of ice water.

He knew about her pregnancy!

* * *

It started sometime in the middle of the night. After the pain began to expand and grow, while he was shaking like an old leaf in the wind, Nick came to realize there was something going on inside his body.

Then he started to throw up, retching noisily over the side of his cot and spitting out bloody dots with the remains of his meal all over the cold floor. Suddenly, the whole cell began to stink, making him feel even more nauseous

He managed to crawl over to the door, but it was more than his body could handle in this state. He felt sicker with every rattling breath he took.

His knocking at the door was as weak as his shaky voice when he finally put his pride aside and cried meekly for help.

The next hours were like hell, a blur of sick and pain in his mind.

A few years ago, before he came to Portland, he fell victim to food poisening, the result of consuming questionable Chinese food. But this was even worse than he had ever experienced. His stomach seemed to burn, he had tremors, and all the time he was shaking and sweating and moaning in agony.

Sometime later he found himself in a deep embrace with a bucket, and he was thankful to have this bucket for what was coming up the wrong way out of his throat.

And all the time he felt so damned cold and helpless. He heard the two other Grimm talking and he was sure they were discussing about what to do with him.

The meat he had eaten, that meat couldn't have been something usual, this was clear.

It felt an eternity later when he felt the cousins carry him back to his bed. But if they thought his stomach was finally empty, they were wrong. Nick wondered where all the stuff came from. Maybe there were also some remnants of the green spit the Cracher-Mortal had paralyzed him with?

Again his thoughts began to wander and the world became a haze. The pain in his body was the only thing that chained him to reality. Otherwise, he was sure, he had lost conscious completely.

And finally he heard the voice he had started to hate the most during the last few days.

"What happened here?"

Eric!

Nick tried his best not to look too helpless and sick. The last thing he wanted was that the Royal would see him weak and use this sickness as another weapon against him.

Someone grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Truly it was Eric who was inspecting him - surprisingly, frowning, and with a worried look in his eyes.

"You don't look too good, my dear," the Royal decided and let him go. "When did this mess start?"

"Last night, your highness. A couple of hours after the dinner," Hans answered.

Nick felt another tremor coming up and began to choke, leaning again above the bucket.

"You should have called me immediately," Eric snapped. "I think I was clear about how much he is worth to me, wasn't I?"

"You were, your highness," mumbled both Grimm, abashed.

Somewhere from deep inside his body, there was dark, humourless laughter shaking him. Aduously, Nick looked up, still trembling, ashen and sweaty. "I am of worth to you but you've poisoned me? Interesting way to prove this to me," he said lowly.

Eric turned around to him. Still looking worried, he studied his face again. "You've been through a purification process," he finally decided. "When?"

Nick shivered and turned his head again, awaiting the next tremor that would make him choke.

"This is necessary information if you want to survive, my dear Grimm," Eric told him simply.

Nick tried to focus but finally gave in. He couldn't stand this alone. He needed help, that was why he had crawled to the door in the first place.

Yes, he would die, he was sure. He wouldn't give in, not with a killing to prove his loyalty. And he was sure his death would be very painful. But not this way.

"Two months before the Cracher-Mortal trapped me," he whispered weakly, feeling as though he was surrendering his deepest of secrets.

Silence. Only the heavy feeling that Eric was watching him.

"He cannot stay here. This cell stinks like someone had died in here," the Royal finally decided. "Get another one ready for him and one of you will go to Pierre and get some medicine. Explain the fact that our dear guest had been through a purification process four months ago, so some of his usual indgrients aren't working the way they should now."

Silence, while Nick was still awaiting the next tremor.

"Ahm, both of us, your highness?" Franz finally asked.

"What you two think he could do to me right now? He isn't in the condition to fight. So, move! Both of you! I'll stay here and watch over him."

Footsteps.

Nick barely looked up, watching Hans and Franz leaving the cell.

So, Eric's information about him wasn't all complete. There was a small break, probably nothing more than a couple of days. But it was something Eric didn't know.

Nick remembered. Rosalee gave him the potion right after Adalind left Portland and he had killed the Hundjaeger. Maybe those Hundjaeger didn't come with her, but they were all in Portland, watching him and the other ones to get the needed information. Could explain a lot.

But whatever, this break closed a short time later, as Eric had information about him after Adalind's flight back to Europe.

Who was in charge of that? How many spies did Eric have in Portland? How much did he know about what was going on there now?

"I am supposed to be in an important meeting right now," Eric sighed. "I hope this gives you an idea how much you are worth to me, my dear Grimm."

Nick again looked up, his teeth chattering. "Not enough to let me go," he finally answered.

Eric sighed and took a seat on his bed again. "Well, I hope I can move that date and that this is only an interlude. You should have told me about the purification process."

Nick again laughed his humourless laugh. "Yeah, for sure. Next time I'll bring my complete Grimm autobiography with me," he answered flatly.

"Well, you should understand this was important and could have ended up more tragic than you might think now." Eric was very serious now.

Nick frowned.

He, the captive, was supposed to tell his keeper about his medical condition? In which reality?

Eric shook his head. "Anyway, four month ago is enough time not to put you into mortal danger. But, as you can see now, close enough to make you really sick."

Carefully and slowly, Nick sat upright, the bucket still in reach. He looked at the Royal. "What was the meat?" he asked.

That was all he had eaten here. That and the water he drank. But he didn't get sick from the water. Plus, he had already seen what was in the mush they served him before the meat.

Eric raised his eyebrows in fake surprise. "The meat was meat. What did you expect?"

"What kind of meat?" Nick wanted to know. "It was the meat, right? It was all I've eaten here. Last night and the sandwich earlier."

"Again the clever Grimm, huh?" Eric leaned back and looked thoughtful for a moment. Finally he shrugged. "It's not so much about the meat as about the spicing. Anyway, the meat carries the special ingredients perfectly."

"What ingredients?" Nick demanded.

Damn, he was so freaking cold! Every bone in his body seemed to be frozen. And still his stomach hurt like hell but at least the tremors had seemed to fade.

Eric watched him with interest. "You are really good with these things, right?" he asked. "Putting the single pieces together to get the complete picture. That's really interesting and I'm wondering if this ability has probably something to do with your former job."

"Don't try to distract me," Nick said, again shivering.

Eric smiled and shrugged again. "Very well. It is a drug called Hundswurz. In high doses it kills, but used carefully, it can carry you to the edge and probably help you over it."

Nick frowned.

Edge? Eric wanted him to go crazy? Was that what all of this was about? But how did the offer of him being a bodyguard fit into this?

"And you have found a way to control me when I'm crazy and aggressive, right?" he asked.

Eric still smiled. "If I want you nuts, I never would have woken you up. I want the dark part of you, the roots of your Grimm. You surely have found out WHAT is there buried deep inside you, right? Fully awoken, you can do things you never thought were even possible for only one person."

"You want to turn me into a monster?" Nick shivered, but this time not only because he felt cold.

"I want the warrior, I need the warrior."

Nick shook his head. "Never!"

His attempt to let his voice sound determined was followed by another retch which forced him again to embrace the bucket.

"Well, now it's put on hold until you are well again, I fear." Eric sighed. "Thanks to the idiot who lead you through the purification process, I've a lot of work to do now with searching a new way to get you to the point I want you."

Nick eyed his keeper, and again he shook his head. "Never!"

"We'll see, my dear Grimm. We will see ..."


	14. Two Calls

**A/N:** Sorry that this took so long and thank you all for the reviews, favs and follows. You guys really rock! And a special thank again to _Merlyn Pyndragon_, who's doing such a great job as beta!

* * *

Sean wasn't sure what he should have to expect when he, once more, stood at this side of the door to Wu's apartment.

Last night's revelation was a shock for him. He didn't feel about Wu like he felt about Nick. Wu wasn't a Grimm, he was something else.

It was true, there were some really rare humans with the ability to see, well, see sometimes, without turning completely into a Grimm. Maybe they carried Grimm genes but this inheritage never awakes in them completely Maybe it was another sense intirely. These people were really rare and, during old times, no one grew very old after he or she developed this ability.

Sean's bet was on this possibility, as he still didn't get anything Grimm from the other side of the door. Last night he really tried to find out, but Wu was only human, nothing more.

So, what was going on here? Sean didn't know, but he wanted to find out – and he would find out!

Maybe he should talk to this Fuchsbau Nick's roommate fell for. She was a Calvert, and Sean himself knew the name pretty well. She was smart and clever, most likely she wouldn't have any problems finding out what happened to his sergeant.

"Wu, open up. This is Captain Renard," Sean said, again rapping at the door.

And this time he heard footsteps, then a key moving in a lock.

Wow! This change was impressive!

The door opened and Wu looked up at him. "Didn't I ask another one for a ride?"

Sean didn't move a muscle. "You are on duty tonight. I'm here to make sure you be there," he said after a break.

Wu looked up at him and Sean couldn't help himself. He wanted to find out to what the sergeant could see and woged a bit into his Zauberbiest-form.

Wu didn't move, continuing to stare up at him. "Everything okay, sir? You look like you'd just eaten something bad."

Wu didn't recognize the Wesen in him!

So far, so good. This could mean Wu's new ability wasn't that strong, good for him. Or it could mean it wasn't fully awoken right now, bad for him.

"I'm good," Sean answered. "But how are you?"

Wu shrugged. "I still have the feeling you are all hiding something from me. That's what I have," he answered. "And didn't you want to talk to me last night very badly?"  
"I did. But then the dead woman distracted me a bit," Sean answered.

Wu's look changed from the usual ironic twinkle in his eye to something predatory. "What about now?" he asked.

"Now we are both going to the precinct. We have a case to work on," Sean answered.

Wu didn't look too excited. "What about the other part?"

Good point, but Sean still wasn't sure how to teach his sergeant about the real wilderness out there. Damn, how had Nick managed to bring Hank into the loop last year?

Hank!

Sean frowned.

Hank had lately moved shifts a lot and was now nearly all the time working for the day shift. So far Sean didn't think any evil about that, but now he really could use the detective's help here. If Hank would be there for Wu to explain the non-explainable ... Sean felt cowardly.

Why did he so desperately want to turn this duty down? Wu had to know what was going on before he went completely crazy. His best bet was to explain and probably show it to him. Unfortunately, Sean was pretty sure he shouldn't be the one Wu should see first.

"Are you coming or do I have to break into your apartment?" Sean asked.

"Why you are so nervous, captain?" the sergeant shot back.

Oh dear God! Starting this whole thing again, really? Wasn't the last time enough?

"Are you really going to interrogate me again, sergeant?" Sean asked flatly. "Didn't I already tell you I don't like being interrogated?"

Wu still looked at him. Finally, shrugging, he turned around and vanished into his apartment.

"Come on in, sir. I'm about to put my uniform on."

Sean sighed.

This was quite a challenge and he didn't know how to handle it the right way. Damn, there has to be a way! Wu was completely out of his mind right now. The old, ironic Wu never would have tried to force him into answers, well, not that way the new one tried.

Sean opened the door completely and entered the small apartment. The TV was on and showed a movie or show Sean didn't know.

Wu's cat was again sitting on couch, and it eyed Sean suspiciously, something Sean could only return with equal mistrust.

He didn't like cats! Okay, he also didn't like dogs. But dogs usually were corrupt with some sausages or other eatable things. Cats were another chapter in this story, more challenging and unpredictable.

"What are you up to?" Sean asked the cat, after said cat blinked with its left eye only. "You are not going to hurt me, are you? I'm the boss of your owner, sweetie."

Not that cats care about bosses ...

Sean sighed and looked to the door at the other end of the room, wishing silently for Wu to speed up a little. This situation was awkward and he couldn't await to get out of there.

But still the question was what to do with Wu? The time to leave him in the dark was definitely over. But what now?

In that moment Sean's cellphone started to ring. When he took it out of his jacket pocket, he lifted his eyebrows in astonishment before he accepted the call.

"Juliette, I'm surprised. Did I miss another meeting?" he asked, just when Wu came back, this time in his uniform.

"I fear I've bad news," Juliette told him.

Sean frowned. "About what?"

"About Rosalee," came the answer. "I fear our enemies are much closer than we thought they would be."

"What happened?"

Juliette turned around to Monroe, who was sitting on a chair beside the divan in the back room of the Spice Shop. And on the divan lay Rosalee, pale and lifeless, with reddened eyes, staring into thin air.

"The Cracher-Mortal has infected Rosalee," Juliette answered. Turning around to the book on the table she began to frown. "And I fear we will need help here when she moves on to the next state of this."

"But ... isn't there a cure?" Renard sounded confused.

Monroe lifted his head, sniffed and blinked. But it was clear how he felt.

"There's a cure, but we can only give it to her in the final state," the Blutbad said with weakened voice. "And, I'm sorry, but I cannot hold her back alone and Juliette is pregnant. So we thought you could help out."

A long sigh came from Juliette's cellphone. "If I bring someone with me ..."

Juliette looked again to Mornoe and the zombiefied Rosalee. Her heart clenched painfully at the sight of Monroe, half broken, at the side of his undead fiance. And she still couldn't fully understand why Rosalee was infected by the Cracher-Mortal. Did he only want to let them know about him still being around and how close he would come? Or was there more to it.

"Whom?" Monroe asked.

"Wu. I'm at his place to take him to the precinct. Do you have any idea how long we have until she awakes?"

That was a good question, especially because Juliette noticed now that she wasn't the only one searching for an answer to this question. Rosalee had left some small notes by the opened book with the cure. But there wasn't any information anyway, this Juliette had checked first. Instead there was a big, fat question mark behind a small drawn clock in one of the margins.

So, not only did the Grimm not know how long it took to get into the last stage, the Wesen didn't know either.

"Not really," Juliette answered.

"Okay, we will come over," Renard decided and ended the call.

Juliette again turned to Monroe. "He's on his way, and he's bringing Wu with him," she informed the Blutbad.

"I heard that." Monroe took Rosalee's hand again and caressed it softly. "You heard that, Rosi? Help is on its way."

Juliette looked aside, suddenly feeling very lonely.

How much she missed being loved by someone else. She missed Nick's small touches, his smile and looks. But what she missed most was being embraced by him. It always felt special, like no one else. That was what made her relationship to Nick as it was – and it hopefully would be again somewhere in the future.

Juliette remembered how she and Monroe searched her neighbourhood to find Rosalee. They had found her near the old Beetle of Monroe's, in the same state they brought her here. The Blutbad was so calm and sad, it made Juliette sad too. After she then searched Rosalee's books with cures for Wesen, Monroe told her what she just found out: they had to wait until Rosalee awoke as a zombie. Juliette was too grounded and realistic not to bring up the topic of whom should hold Rosalee back then. She remembered pretty well the night at the container yard, she remembered every single zombie since then. And she knew too well she couldn't stand them, not without a weapon and not in her own state. Monroe wasn't able to hold Rosalee back by himself, this was clear. They needed help.

"It'll be okay, Rosi," Monroe whispered into the silence.

Juliette turned again to the table and tried to concentrate on the cure, to mix it up and be ready when Rosalee awoke.

The Cracher-Mortal had never been so close before! His spit was still on her porch. He had been at her house! Hers and Nick's! The refuge, the only stable home Nick had since his parents, no, his father, died nineteen years ago.

This made Juliette shiver. What if the Cracher-Mortal forced his way into her house and waited for her, or else made away the few things Nick left behind when he left her?

Calm down! She chided herself. What use did he have of such things?

But even the knowledge that this dangerous Wesen knew where she lived brought her to the edge to panic.

Why Rosalee? Why not her in the first place? Only to let Juliette know he was still around? Or was there something else?

"You shouldn't stay at your house for now," Monroe said to her. Juliette turned to him and repeated the look he gave her. "No one of us should be alone now. This was a warning call."

Juliette still looked into his eyes, morphed into red glowing orbs. Monroe didn't seem to realize that he was half woged into the Blutbad.

"You are right," Juliette answered.

And he was, she knew.

But why Rosalee? Why not her or Monroe? Thank the Lord the Cracher-Mortal didn't go after Monroe! She didn't want to experience the terror of him being a zombiefied Blutbad, she already had seen enough of him to know how dangerous he would be then.

"Can I use your attic as long as this lasts?" she asked.

Monroe's eyes morphed back into his warm brown eyes when a sad smile lifted the corners of his mouth. Slowly he nodded. "Sure you can. I wanted to ask you the same."

"What? Living in my attic? You would regret that," was Juliette's attempt to brighten up this mess of a night.

"You are probably right. So, it's you moving in with us," Monroe still held Rosalee's lifeless hand in his.

Juliette nodded. "Yes, just like Nick lived with you."

"But you are the better cook I hope ..."

She laughed. "I am. But Nick's spaghetti is better."

Why Rosalee? Why at her place?

All this kidding didn't delete this questions ...

* * *

Eric was finally back in his office when his private cellphone began to vibrate. Not the least pleasent feeling, this little buzzing in his trousers. but the call could be more than important.

He pulled the cellphone out of the pocket and lifted a surprised eyebrow when he looked at the picture of the coffin with the laughing Baron at its side. Eric had taken this picture back in Portland after he closed said coffin, right before the Cracher-Mortal ordered some of his zombies to carry the coffin to the truck, waiting to bring the Grimm to the airport.

"Baron, how are you, my dear friend?" Eric finally asked after he accepted the call.

"I've some news, your highness. News you surely want to learn," the charming voice with the heavy accent told him.

Eric learned back on his chair, folding his free arm around his chest. "What news I could have to learn now? Any progress on my dear brother?" he asked.

"It is about the girlfriend of your Grimm, your highness," the Baron answered. "I just had a little conversation with one of the group. This woman brought the group back together, and she did more, she involved your brother into it."

That wasn't exactly news his usual spy hadn't already told him about this interesting development. But maybe the Baron had found out the reason why.

"What else did your well tell you?" Eric asked, still not looking too interested.

"She is pregnant, and the Grimm is the father of the child. I thought this would worth a call," the Cracher-Mortal said.

With one movement Eric stood up.

This was a big surprise! And it was something he'd never expected.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

This could change everything! This could even have an influence on Nick's worth! If the child became a Grimm, it was most valuable itself after it was born.

"I asked one of the group. She didn't have any choice than to tell me the truth," the Baron answered. "What should I do now? I could bring her over or could order my new child to end the pregnancy."

Good God, no!

Eric thought for a moment.

The Grimm currently in his hands was still more powerful than normal. And with him becoming a father now he was more valuable, as his fertility had been proven. If there was any chance that the unborn also become a Grimm, Nick could ... well, suddenly Eric had to think twice about his abandoned plan to try to breed a new generation of Grimm, under his command and fullhearted in following him. With that he could do more than merely restore the former power of his family, he could rule the entire world!

"Should I order her to kill one or both of them?" the Baron wanted to know.

"No," Eric decided.

He would start researching about this girlfriend. So far she wasn't for his personal interest, but now that she managed to bring the group back together, most likely to protect her unborn child and herself for the next few months, she proved that she had some influence. Maybe Eric made a mistake with nearly ignoring her in the past.

"Tell me her name," Eric said.

"It's Juliette Silverton."

He scribbled a small note on a sheet of paper on his desk and leaned back. "Watch her, but be careful. Don't let her recognize you. I will tell you soon what to do with her and the baby."

Wasn't that a pleasant coincidence? He wanted to get rid of one baby and its mother but to spend some time on another mother and her baby. Sort of funny ...

"Oh, and would it have any influence on the child if you used your powers on the soon-to-be mother?" Eric asked.

"Depends on the state of the pregnancy," the Baron answered. "The longer I wait, the more the child will stay on its own. But it cannot leave its mother's body as long as I control the mother."

That could be the answer. But first ... a little background work.

"Stay tuned. I will let you know as soon as I make a decision," Eric said and ended the call.

This was a surprise, but so far a pleasant one ...


End file.
